


"Ally"-ed

by VioletBiFemme



Series: Spectrum [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bi-Erasure, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams, Drinking, Drunk Texting, Explicit Consent, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Karaoke, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Masturbation, Men Crying, Mildly Dubious Consent, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Whump, different strokes for different folks, pride month
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletBiFemme/pseuds/VioletBiFemme
Summary: Chapter 10: Barba covertly (or so he thinks…) attempts to cheer up one particularly despondent detective by showing him the brighter side of pride in NYC. Between the winding streets, rainbow benches, warm beverages and life talks, Barba's denial begins to unravel. Could his newfound interest in Carisi's wellbeing mean something more? And what was the detective thinking about all of this....***Pride month, hero worship and assumptions lead to a plethora of angst for Barisi.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Series: Spectrum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801621
Comments: 112
Kudos: 113





	1. Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place around Season 16, when Carisi had not established as close relationships with Rollins or Barba as of yet. 
> 
> I tagged cannon rewrite, as in this fic Barba is known as LGBTQ+ by the squad.
> 
> Inspired by the Pride Month Barisi Challenge 2020 prompts "purple" and "pride month". I believe those fics are supposed to have fluff (and this has none) so I didn't include the tag.
> 
> Pride Month events mentioned are inspired by Toronto Pride and Bisexual Arts Festival events I've attended IRL. 
> 
> The level of angst matches the emotional barometer of the author- working in social services during a pandemic is rough folks!

Barba should have had lunch. Or breakfast for that matter.

Despite being a renowned workaholic, being called into the office on a Sunday afternoon was not his bliss. Those few precious hours he carved out between 3 pm and 6 pm on Sundays were for a run, a soak and a scotch. In no particular order. The rest of the week he was beholden to the beck and call of the DA’s office, but Sunday afternoons were sacred. Figuratively for him. Literally for Carisi.

Or so he thought.

Perhaps if he had allocated some time to consume a meal, he’d have the bandwidth to process what in the hell just happened…

*********

[Earlier]

To say that Barba had arrived at his office flustered would be an understatement.

He had spent his entire morning completing casework for an upcoming trial. A trial which he had no hope of winning, but was forced to participate anyways in due to the DA’s politicking. There was no ignoring the fact that the case was an absolute mess. The police work was shoddy, the victim was unreliable, and the defendant had the trifecta. They were credible, likeable and well-connected. The ADA from Queen’s had to recuse herself due to a personal conflict, so tag, Barba was it.

Barba had to cancel his brunch plans with Rita accordingly. Despite loathing each other professionally, they were still connected socially. There was something to be said for keeping someone around who knew you "way back when". The friends who knew you when you lived off saltines and canned tuna, and chose to associate with you anyway. Besides, Rita knew where all the skeletons were buried. Figuratively of course. 

They had planned to attend the _Taste for Life_ brunch, a pride month fundraiser for HIV/AIDS. Barba been looking forward to partaking in a few mimosas with his egg’s benny. It’s OK to be a cliché once in a while. Thankfully Rita had had some, shall we say, companionship the night before. She was happy to bring her latest conquest in Barba's place. 

Barba had hoped for some time to himself before heading to dinner with his mother, but that didn't pan out either. A flurry of phone calls from Manhattan SVU meant his dinner plans were similarly cancelled. Barba abandoned his 4thcup of coffee and rushed to pull together an outfit that would be suitable for a Sunday in the office. He called his mother while he got ready to explain that he was going to miss another one of their dinners, and no, he wasn’t happy about it, despite what she may think.

It was a painfully hot summer already, and Barba had forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning. This meant the only clean suits he had left were heavy weight and did not breath. He sighed in exasperation- business casual it was! He donned a lavender windowpane dress shirt, pale pink chinos and a navy sport coat. He decided to forgo a vest. It was Sunday after all.

He exited his building just as the skies opened up and the rain poured down. Of course there would be an impromptu sun shower at this exact moment in time. He’d forgotten an umbrella in the rush but managed to snag a cab before the precipitation got through to his base layers. By the time Barba made it to 1 Hogan Place he was overheated, damp and very uncomfortable.

Whatever SVU brought to him had better be good.

* * *

Rollins and Carisi were waiting outside of his office when he arrived. Barba hadn’t asked Carmen to come in to assist. He knew she’d already worked an extra 15 hours that week and that the upcoming one wasn’t looking too promising either. Carmen was a gem and Barba would be lost without her.

Rollins looked nicely put together for being called in on a Sunday, sporting a simple white pantsuit with a mint green sleeveless blouse. It appeared someone on the team was capable of keeping up with their dry cleaning. He’d expected to see Carisi in his Sunday best, assuming he’d have been in Staten Island enjoying a post-mass lunch with his family. Instead he was wearing cropped pale pink chinos, a short-sleeved oxford shirt in an identical lavender windowpane print, and a navy vest, left unbuttoned. If it wasn’t for the boat shoes and the satchel, Carisi would look like he was wearing a slightly shrunken version of Barba’s outfit.

This wasn’t the first time Barba had noticed Carisi emulating his style.

When he’d first joined SVU, Carisi came in with the grooming and refinement of someone in the Sears catalogue mens section from the 1980’s. How a young man could look so dated was beyond Barba. That mustache alone was an abomination. You’d think someone with experience in SVU would have the good sense NOT to look like the sort of character that the neighbourhood watch was on the lookout for. You’d be wrong.

Carisi came on strong. Like bull in a china shop strong, only with opposable thumbs and a penchant for sharing cannoli. He was eager to tell anyone and everyone all about his ideas, his family and of course, his law studies. Carisi was always giving advice, offering to help and inserting himself into any situation. For someone so green, he sure did come in hot. 

Speaking of hot, the detective’s attractiveness had improved considerably once the moustache disappeared. Who knew that he had a deliciously pink and near permanent pout hiding underneath it? His polyester suits and off-putting ties had made fewer appearances lately as well. Barba supposed part of this was his doing. He’d notice the detective had begun to add to his wardrobe. Some tailored pants here, a vest there. It was flattering at first. Until it wasn’t. It was beginning to feel like Carisi wanted to be “just like him when he grew up”.

Barba realized that they had all migrated over to his desk at some point, and that the detectives were talking about the case. Rollins was trying to give him the quick and dirty summary of the case. It was clear that she wanted to get on with her weekend ASAP. Carisi on the other hand seemed a bit more subdued. His facial expressions were relaxed, and his body posture was open. His eyes kept tracking back and forth between Rollins and Barba when they spoke. His eyes would linger on Barba a little longer. As if he was waiting for him to say something profound. The adoration that the detective directed towards him was beginning to be a bit much.

Actually, it was beginning to be a lot.

It wasn’t just the looks of admiration and the wardrobe mirroring that were throwing Barba off-guard. It was the fact that the detective nearly omnipresent. Carisi was constantly showing up at his office to relay messages that could have certainly been a phone call. If Barba was observing an interrogation, Carisi was always standing nearby. Sometimes he was close enough for Barba to simply feel the heat of his presence.

He was forever toting around baked goods and he made a point to offer them to Barba (and Carmen). Carisi often observed his court proceedings, even the cases that were not from SVU, just to sing Barba’s praises afterwards. Carisi was the only one who had dropped off files to him in the last few weeks. Even still. All of that was fine. A little hero worship did wonders for the ego in moderation. Moderation did not include running into Carisi outside of the precinct, the courts and the ADA’s office.

Now that he was thinking about it, Carisi had made appearances at Barba’s last three social engagements. He’d only caught a glimpse of him the first time. Rita had accompanied Barba to a screening of the film _Paris is Burning_. The New York Bar Association hosted a series of LGBTQ+ events during pride month and they both made it a point to attend the least offensive ones. Anything related to the arts, culinary endeavours or speaker panels, yes. Anything involving glitter, music at an obscene decibel or body shots, no. At least not anymore. Youth is wasted on the young. Carisi was young…

Anyhow, Rita had insisted that she'd seen the detective on her way to the bathroom. Barba had assured her she was mistaken, but Rita was adamant that Carisi had been patiently waiting outside the bathroom for his companion. “Rafael, I swear, it was the detective with the mafia hair and choir boy manners. Trust me.” The event was well-attended, and the theatre was dark, so Barba could not see Carisi when he did his cursory scan of the room. It was only once they’d left the theatre to make their way to a wine bar that he finally spotted him.

Barba only saw a flash of Carisi’s signature blonde coif and the side profile of his roman nose as he helped his date into the cab. His blonde date. His very busty blonde date- of course. It was definitely Carisi, and Barba was thankful that he hadn’t wandered over to say hello. He did not want to feel honour bound to invite the detective to join them for drinks. Rita had some very specific “goals” for their evening, and it would be difficult to play wing-person with a third wheel. 

Perhaps that was uncharitable. Carisi had not approached him at the event and it’s possible he had not even looked in Barba’s direction. He could usually feel the detective’s eyes on him if they were in the same room. He’d get that prickly sensation along the back of his neck and shoulders. Barba thought it best not to analyze this too closely…

Come to think of it, Carisi had not brought up seeing Barba at that event, nor the two that followed. And that was odd, considering Carisi talked about LITERALLY everything, ad nauseum, to everyone. Hands wildly gesticulating, eyes sparkling, accent filled conversations that-

_“BARBA!”_

Barba startled in his seat and at the same time his stomach growled. Loudly.

**“Yes Rollins?”**

_“Are you following what I’m saying counselor or are you waiting for the coffee machine to repeat it for you?”_

Barba sighed and pressed his fingertips to his temples. He’d woken up with a touch of a headache and it was beginning to make itself known again. He couldn’t believe he had let his mind wander like that. He had been lost in thought analyzing Carisi’s social calendar rather than focusing on their latest case. At least he'd had the good sense to stare at the coffee maker while he zoned out and not at the detective himself. Small miracles.

**“I apologize detectives, I’ve got the beginnings of a headache and I got distracted.”**

Carisi had already stood up and made his way over to the coffee maker before Barba had finished the word headache. Barba took another moment to appraise the detective’s outfit while Carisi prepared the coffee. They really were wearing shirts with an identical print. And while Barba had prided himself in curating a wardrobe with dynamic patterns and sophisticated colour palettes, Carisi had not. Although the detective had been wearing more colour lately. Definitely favouring the purple colour palette. Perhaps the busty blonde told him it brought out the blue of his eyes? Because it did...

At this point Carisi was perched against the sideboard the coffee maker was on. The detective really did have long legs. The tailored pink fabric did wonders for the detective’s narrow hips and slender but muscular thighs. And that wasn’t the only thing it highlighted...

 _“Oh, I think I know why you’re distracted”-_ Rollins said with a sly grin looking at Carisi and then back at Barba.

The coffee machine started sputtering in the background. The promise of an imminent caffeine jolt was ever enticing. It seemed Carisi had found a granola bar somewhere and placed it on a napkin. Barba’s stomach gurgled audibly again. This was getting embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing, Rollins was in the middle of calling him out. Barba schooled his features to feign nonchalance and turned his attention back to her.

**“Please do enlighten me detective”.**

_“You’re distracted by your mini-me.”_

**“EXCUSE ME?”**

Barba didn’t know what Rollins meant by THAT, but it sounded crass. At a minimum. Carisi had rejoined them at this point, placing a fresh cup of coffee and the granola bar down in front of the counselor. His perma-pout was on full display, along with a slight head tilt and a furrowed brow. It would seem Carisi was also unsure where Rollins was going with this.

_“Mini-me. You know. Like Austin Powers? Carisi is your mini-me today”._

**“Do you need a map to get to your point?”**

“Can we focus on the case at hand please?” Carisi pleaded. He looked uncomfortable now and averted his gaze to the desk in front of him.

_“Sheesh, it seems like everyone is touchy this afternoon. You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed you're basically wearing the same outfit here. Although Carisi is taller, so I suppose that makes you the mini-me Barba.”_

Carisi’s attention appeared to be elsewhere, as he continued to stare at the desk. The desk with Barba’s calendar on it. The calendar which included each Pride Month event Barba was planning to attend. The events which Carisi seemed to show up to, with a busty blonde no less.

 **“I hate to disappoint you Rollins, but this is purely coincidental. I’m not familiar with the Austin you speak of, but I can assure you that my wardrobe decisions were made entirely under duress. My dry cleaner is closed on Sundays”.**

_“Likely story counselor. I know Carisi’s outfit was planned today. I’m sure A LOT of thought went into picking this ensemble didn’t it Carisi”._

Carisi’s head snapped up upon hearing his name. He’d obviously been lost in thought and had not been following the conversation. He never missed an opportunity to stick up for Barba. If that’s even what Barba needed in this situation. Barba could see the wheels turning in Carisi’s head. He then spotted the red ribbon pin on Carisi’s vest. He hadn’t noticed that before. This conversation was getting away from him and Barba hated to concede verbal sparring power to anyone. Time to deflect.

 **“I must say Carisi I was surprised to see you in anything less than your Staten Island best on a Sunday. Did they make you say a few extra Hail Mary’s for those boat shoes?”.**

Not his finest barb, but it would suffice in a pinch. Barba took a bite of the granola bar, a long gulp of coffee and fought the urge to moan. Carisi had fixed his coffee perfectly. It really did hold a special place in his heart- coffee that is.

_“Carisi didn’t come here from Staten Island. He didn’t even come here from a mass in Manhattan. I picked him up from a hipster joint in Tribeca. You know the type with a rooftop terrace and a $30 mimosa.”_

Yes. He did know the type. Barba looked again to the red ribbon Carisi was wearing and suddenly it clicked. Carisi was at the very brunch that Barba and Rita had been planning to attend before he’d been assigned to the Queens SVU case that morning. Carisi’s actions were beginning to escalate from hero worship to pseudo stalking. Barba had to shut this down. The detective needed to know he'd caught on to him. He wasn't going to let this go. 

**“Actually, I know exactly the type. Byzantium? I had been planning on attending the _Taste for Life_ brunch there today. It’s one of the pride month fundraisers that the Bar Association always supports. And the mimosas are only $20, but the eggs benedict are around $50. Terrible spot for parking though”.**

_“Tell me about it, I had to circle the block 6 times before double parking, just so this one could see his buxom blonde off into a cab.”_

“Hey, Amanda that’s disrespectful, please don’t talk about her like that” Sonny interjected.

_“Who’s being disrespectful? All I’m saying is I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers.”_

Barba snorted. Crass definitely seemed to fit Rollins mood today. He supposed this was what happened when the weekend of a 30 something was interrupted.

“Counselor, about the warrants we need—" Carisi’s tone was pleading but Barba was on a roll now. He had a headache, he’d missed brunch, his mother would be insufferable for missing dinner and he could not have Carisi popping up at random in all facets of his life.

**“A cab? You didn’t offer to drop her off on your way here Rollins?”**

Carisi gave a defeated sigh and slouched in his chair.

 _“There wasn’t time counselor. I’m surprised Romeo here hadn’t arranged a car in advance”._

“First I’m mini-me, now I’m Romeo” Carisi muttered under his breath. “Can we stop discussing my personal life and get back to the case. I’m sure we’d all rather be somewhere else right now”.

 _“Like getting back to your date with the blonde?”_ Amanda quipped without missing a beat.

“Or taking rapists off the streets. Like our jobs”. Carisi supplied.

**“I’m curious detective, what made you choose the Taste for Life fundraiser for a date?”**

Carisi both paled and blushed at the question. It would seem impossible to do both simultaneously but somehow, he managed it.

 _“What’s the Taste for Life anyways? Some sort of foodie thing?”_ Rollins inquired.

**“No, it’s a fundraiser specifically for HIV/AIDS. They outline developments in research, treatment and prevention, highlight local agencies that support those living with it, observe moments of remembrance and recognition for those who’ve passed. They usually have dinners but during Pride Month they do brunch so as not to complete with other events that occur in the evening.”**

_“Jeez Carisi, kinda heavy for a brunch date. What were you thinking?”_ Rollins asked, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s a good cause and the venue has a great view of the city”- Carisi supplied quickly. He was definitely uncomfortable now and nearing panic. His eyes were wide, and his lips pursed in a thin line whenever he wasn’t speaking. “As does the loft, which we need the warrant for, to look for DNA evidence. Any of this ringing a bell to you?”

 _“There’s got to be more to it than that Carisi, you follow every food blog from here to Yonkers and you’re telling me THAT'S the brunch you missed church for. I guess it would make a first date memorable?”_

**“It wasn’t their first date.”**

Carisi’s eyes bore into Barba. He could definitely feel the telltale pinpricks that told him he had the detective’s full attention. That sensation of being consumed by another was uncanny.

 _“How do you know that?”_ Rollins demanded excitedly.

Carisi made eye contact with Barba, his expression pleading with him to stop this conversation. His mouth was moving, as if he were trying to form words but they died on his lips. His body posture was alert and on edge as he leaned forward to hear what they were saying. He managed to get out a soft “please-“ before Barba cut him off again.

**“Well you may have been onto something earlier Rollins. I think our detective here is my mini-me, whatever that means. He’s been popping up at all my pride month events with the blonde in tow. Although I suppose it’s possible Carisi is juggling multiple blondes.”**

_“I don’t think Carisi is much into juggling. But multiple pride month events? That’s one way to prove you’re open-minded Carisi. Or very creative in coming up with ideas for dates”_

**“It didn’t require much creativity- the Bar Association Pride Month calendar has been on my desk since the beginning of the month.”**

_“No kidding!”_

**“Let me guess, his next date will be the ACLU event on Wednesday on LGBTQ+ Rights?”** Barba said. He felt vindicated in his assessment when Carisi’s blush deepened from cotton candy to raspberry.

_“Is that why you switched shifts with me Carisi? Have you ever considered dinner and a movie?”_

**“They already went to a movie. Paris is Burning in fact. I can’t confirm if they had dinner though.”**

Rollins just laughed and shook her head.

**“Regardless of his dating prowess, Carisi definitely qualifies for the Ally of the Month participation ribbon. Although two more events and he’ll be upgraded to the trophy.”**

“Two warrants, one for the loft in SoHo and one for the Hamptons house and we’re out of here. Please Barba.” Carisi begged, his body posture caving into itself. The entirety of his focus seemed to be the hands in his lap. Not that either of them noticed him at this point.

_“You know how Carisi is with holidays. There was the 12 days of Christmas baking, also known as 12 extra lbs for your_ _New Years_ _resolutions diet. There was also the love ballads and breakup anthems playlist for Valentine’s Day. And you can’t forget the home brew stout for St. Patty’s day. Carisi commits.”_

**“In that case, I look forward to my star-spangled pizza in two weeks’ time”**

Barba and Rollins broke into fits of laughter.Barba wasn’t always a fan of Rollins. They tended to grate at each other but today had been fun. It seems they had found common ground in having a few good-natured ribs at the newest detective. A sharp ringtone interrupted their banter and Rollins stepped away to take the call. Barba took that opportunity to sneak in another bite of the granola bar and refill his coffee. He’d have to go on a hunt for Motrin shortly. There are some headaches even coffee cannot fix.

_“That was Liv I gotta head to Mercy. We’ve got another vic and she’s hoping to get home to Noah at a decent hour tonight.”_

**“Tell her I should have the warrants for Carisi shortly. I’ll start interrupting judges’ weekends now. They should be finished their golf games by this hour.”**

_“I’ll see you back at the station Carisi. Enjoy what’s left of your weekend counselor.”_ And with that Rollins departed.

Barba took a deep breath and looked down at the file that the detectives had brought him. He took another big gulp of coffee and opened his rolodex. It was an archaic system, but he did not like programming judges’ phone numbers into his personal cell. The possibility of a less than proper text being sent to the wrong person in error was deterrent enough for him. Barba picked up the granola bar and nibbled on it while looking through the rolodex.

**“I’ll try judge Spadina as soon as I finish this granola bar Carisi, I haven’t had a chance to eat yet today. She’s the least likely to hold ill will for being interrupted on a Sunday.”**

Radio silence.

**“Are we daydreaming detective?”**

Still nothing. Now that was unusual.

Barba swallowed the remnants of the granola bar and finally looked up to see what had the detective so distracted. He was not prepared for what he observed.

Carisi was still sitting in the chair, but was unresponsive. His shoulders had squared off and his body posture was rigid. He was still looking down at his hands and his fingers were clasped so tightly that the tips were turning white. The raspberry blush was visible from his hairline to his collarbone. A prominent vein that resembled a lightning bolt had appeared on the left side of his forehead. His teeth were clenched, and his jaw was working. That perfect pout was pursed so tightly that his lips almost disappeared into his mouth.

But what really got to Barba. What really shook him, was what happened next.

Barba heard staccato exhalations of breath and a deep audible swallow. Barba felt his own pulse start to quicken. He felt spellbound by the image of Carisi before him. He couldn’t look away.

**“Carisi?”**

After a silent pause that felt like an eternity, Barba heard another staccato exhalation and swallow. He could do nothing but stare directly towards the detective, waiting for a response. ANY response.

Carisi began to lift his head and then looked towards Barba. Void of his trademark cheery disposition, the detective’s eyes were shining with tears and his brow looked furrowed in rage. Carisi’s lips were no longer pursed and his pout was the most pronounced he'd ever seen it. There was a whisper of a quiver playing across his chin. He looked like he was trying to open his mouth to speak and Barba was frozen in place, unable to process what was happening and unable to look away.

Carisi made direct eye contact with Barba and held it for a few seconds before speaking. In a deep but breaking voice, he said “fuck you”.

Barba would have sworn that his heart stopped beating at that moment. By the time Barba could take a breath Carisi had already left his office, leaving the case file and his satchel behind.


	2. Periwinkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba is left reeling in the wake of Carisi's sudden departure and Fin's unexpected arrival. Sleeplessness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst continues! I promise there will be some lighter moments as the story progresses but we aren't there yet.

Barba wasn’t sure how long he had stood frozen in place, desperately trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

What HAD just happened?

He hesitantly made his way towards his office door. Maybe the detective had decided to wait outside for the warrants? Perhaps he had decided to take a walk and blow off some steam. He peered out his office door at Carmen's desk- there was no sign of him. Barba tentatively made his way down the hall to see is anyone was else was present. It appeared that he was the only person on the floor.

Confused and slightly concerned, Barba turned back and made his way towards his office. He couldn’t make sense of this, but he could get to work on obtaining the warrants they needed. SVU needed him and whatever was going on with Carisi would have to wait. Carisi, ever the professional, would not let a conflict with Barba interfere with a police investigation. He’d come back any minute now with his tail between his legs and an apology. Although for what he’d be apologizing for, Barba was unsure.

He spent the next 15 minutes working through his rolodex, calling judges’ in descending order from least likely to be perturbed by a Sunday interruption, to those who absolutely would. Once he’d left all the voice messages he could, Barba made note of the time. Still no Carisi.

He wouldn’t admit that he was worried per say, but he was definitely on alert. He glanced towards the cabinet where he kept his scotch. No, not a good idea. A granola bar and a pot of coffee were not a suitable base for liquor. Barba figured it was as good a time as any to tidy up the paperwork on his desk and busied himself with that. 

After another 15 minutes had passed and Barba was officially feeling antsy. He looked into the hallway again- still no sign of Carisi. He made his way over to the elevator banks and pressed the call button. Maybe Carisi had stepped out for a moment and had gotten stuck in the elevator? That was possible right? The elevator chimed and the doors opened. Scratch that theory. Barba could hear his desk phone ringing so bolted back to his office. As expected, Judge Spadina was the one who had gotten back to him first. At least some things were still within his ability to predict.

He continued working through the case file. At this point it had been at least an hour since Carisi made his swift departure. He checked his cell and his email- no new messages. Barba was not sure what to do at this point. Just as he was contemplating his next move, he heard the elevator chime from down the hall. It would seem that he’d developed super hearing in the last hour. Barba braced himself for what was bound to be an uncomfortable conversation with Carisi.

He heard a knock on his open office door. Strange. That forceful two tap knock was nothing like Carisi’s knock. A knock which Barba had apparently memorized, unbeknownst to him until this exact moment in time. When Barba looked up, he realized the explanation for the odd knock was simple. It wasn’t Carisi at his door. It was Fin. Huh. That was unexpected.

 _“Sorry to just arrive without a heads-up counselor, but I wanted to see if you had any luck getting those warrants for us?”_ Fin asked in an unreadable tone.

Ok. Fin was acting normally. Which meant he either had a great poker face or that whatever faux-pas Barba had committed hadn’t been relayed to him yet. It still didn’t explain why he had arrived instead of Carisi. Barba must have been staring at Fin awhile, because the detective chuckled and continued speaking.

_“I guess you’re wondering why I showed up instead of Carisi huh?”_

“I will admit I’m surprised by this impromptu changing of the guard. I was under the impression that Rollins had left to relieve Liv at Mercy. How did you get roped into this?”, Barba inquired, keeping his tone and facial expression as neutral as he could.

_“I got an urgent text from Carisi asking me to pick up the warrants for him. Said he suddenly came down with a stomach bug and shouldn’t be in public until he was no longer a biohazard. It must be pretty bad because he said he couldn’t even call me to talk me through the case.”_

Carisi was sick? So sick he couldn’t be on the phone? Is that why he left? He didn’t seem sick. Maybe he was like a cat when he was in distress and hid from the world until it was over. No, wait, that was Barba’s MO, not Carisi’s.

“So, he just texted you and asked you to come pick up the warrants? Because he was too sick to even have a phone call”. Barba wasn’t sure why he was repeating what had just been said. Maybe he was buying time to try and figure out if Fin was stretching the truth.

 _“His text also included several descriptive emojis and that was enough explanation for me. Who knew all it took was a little norovirus to silence the man?”_ Fin joked.

Any other time Barba would have joined in, but he failed to see the humour at this particular moment. He picked up the warrants he had obtained and went to pass them to Fin. It was then he noticed that the detective was carrying a large brown paper bag.

“Are you heading home after this stop?”- Barba asked, looking at the bag and back up at Fin. Small talk wasn’t something he often engaged in, but he was feeling less and less like himself as each minute passed.

Fin looked down at his hand with a confused expression, as if he had no idea what Barba was getting at. When his eyes landed on the bag he smirked and shook his head. _“Actually, this bag is for you. Carisi said you hadn’t eaten today and asked me if I could pick you up a sandwich”_ Fin explained.

“Carisi asked you to order food for me, while describing his current gastrointestinal distress?” Barba was left wondering if anything going to make sense today.

 _“Actually, Carisi made the arrangements, all I had to do was pick it up on my way over here”._

Barba opened the bag and found a wrapped sandwich, a pickle, and something else…. something plastic… what was this? Some sort of condiment maybe? He reached in and picked up the small plastic bottle. It was Motrin. Barba looked up and noticed that Fin had been watching and was smiling at him. What was that about?

“Interesting combos they offer at this deli. Pain relievers instead of chips. Although I’d contend it would be more lucrative to offer acid reducers”- Barba rambled, the poor attempt at a joke lingering awkwardly.

 _“Carisi also mentioned that you had a headache that wouldn’t quit. He keeps an extra bottle of Motrin in his desk, so he asked me to bring it along too”_ Fin explained with smirk and a glint in his eye.

And if that didn’t make Barba feel like absolute shit, nothing would. Carisi had come into his office seemingly fine and left in tears, only to turnaround and ensure that Barba was fed and that his headache was attended to. Barba did not know what to make of Fin’s smirk. 

“Thank you, detective. You didn’t have to do this for me, but I appreciate the effort all the same. I know this is likely not what you had in mind for your Sunday afternoon.”

_“Don’t sweat it counselor. I figured if it was important enough to be on Carisi’s mind while he was praying to the porcelain gods, an extra five minutes wouldn’t hurt. That man is something else.”_

“He certainly is” Barba whispered to himself. He looked at his desk and saw the Pride Month calendar that had set him off earlier. The moment where everything had gone wrong. The mental gymnastics he was performing to trying to navigate this situation were worthy of an Olympic medal. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and looked back up at Fin.

“If you require anything else detective let me know and I’ll bring it by the precinct” Barba offered.

 _“Well I never thought I’d see the day you offered to be a messenger for SVU. Is that what happens when you’re not in a suit”_ Fin teased.

“Consider it a time limited offer. I know you’re running short with Carisi out and that Liv was hoping to see Noah this evening. We’ll call it the sandwich tax.” Barba inwardly cringed. The sandwich tax? Really? He went to Harvard and this is the best he could come up with?

 _“Copy that counselor. I’ll be on my way. Thanks for the warrants”_ Fin said as he left the office with a wave.

Alone again, Barba took a moment to finally eat something that wasn’t shelf stable. He looked more closely at the takeout bag. Carisi had ordered his favourite sandwich. How did the detective even know that? And why did that make Barba feel impossibly warm and cared for, when just over an hour ago the mere thought of the detective’s presence at a public brunch made him feel suffocated?

Barba’s stomach growled, reminding him that it was time to eat, despite the fact he’d lost his appetite. He went to pick-up the sandwich and then remembered he’d touched the elevator buttons in his earlier search for Carisi. Barba looked down at his hands and saw they were also covered in pen. Wasn’t that just charming.

He sighed and put the wrapped sandwich down. It was best to wash his hands before diving in. Especially since a supposed stomach bug was going around (although if that is true then Carisi preparing his coffee and granola bar earlier made transmission a certainty regardless).

Barba stopped by the vending machines to grab a ginger ale while he was up- call it an insurance policy. Just as he left his office and began walking down the hall, he heard the faint squeak of an oak door opening. That’s strange. He had walked the perimeter of the floor earlier and thought he was alone. He heard footsteps making their way towards him from the hallway around the corner.

Barba wouldn’t be able to explain it if he tried, but he felt spooked by this and he moved himself to hide beside the vending machine. He would be able to see who was coming around the corner, but they wouldn’t be able to see him. Which was perfect, because explaining why he felt the need to hide would take considerable effort. It was a secured building after all, and no one could come up to this floor without the concierge’s blessing.

The footsteps got closer and Barba thought he could recognize the gait by sound alone. It sounded like Carisi. But that couldn’t be right- the detective had left the building over an hour ago.

Except it was Carisi.

From his hiding spot, Barba took a moment to get a good look at him. The detective looked awful- his eyes were bloodshot and swollen; his nose was bright red and his lips looked completely chewed up. His overly styled hair was mussed, as if he’d had his head in his hands for some time. Barba also noted that his complexion was clear, he didn’t look sweaty, his vest was still on and the oxford shirt did not look wrinkled or stained. The knees of his pink chinos showed no signs that he’d spent an hour kneeling over a toilet either. Maybe it was a coincidence though? People get walloped by the stomach flu out of nowhere all the time. That’s sort of it’s calling card.

Barba watched as Carisi made his way to the elevator banks and pressed the call button. The detective looked down at his phone and bit his lip. He thought he heard a sniffle, but at this point he wasn’t sure what was real life and what was not. It wasn’t every day that he used vending machines as an invisibility device. He had never done that before actually.

Once Carisi had gotten into the elevator and the doors had closed, Barba turned around and headed back to his office. He decided to pack up his case files, his sandwich and spend the remainder of the day working out of his home office. He began to gather his items together and noticed Carisi’s abandoned satchel. It was actually quite stylish with its dove gray colour and periwinkle stitching.

Why would Carisi have brought a satchel to brunch though? Barba looked down at the bag again. Maybe Carisi had packed an overnight bag, optimistic that he wouldn’t get called in and he could enjoy a lazy Sunday with his date? Barba felt some emotion stirring in him at the thought of that, but he couldn’t put a name to it. Or wouldn’t put a name to it.

Maybe Carisi’s service weapon was inside? He wouldn’t have wanted to advertise that he was a police officer when in a queer space. For obvious reasons. Besides, there was nothing relaxing about eating brunch next to someone with a weapon holstered. Barba tried to recall if he saw Carisi wearing his weapon or his badge earlier, but all he could remember was how his pants had accentuated his… assets.

Barba chastised himself. Now was not the time for being lewd! Should he open the satchel to confirm what was in it? If it had Carisi’s gun and badge he couldn’t leave the bag lying around. But if it was an overnight bag, he did not want to rifle through his personal belongings. After several minutes of quiet deliberation, Barba decided he couldn’t open it. He’d already found and exploited a vulnerability within the detective today without even trying. He wasn’t going to do it intentionally.

He locked the bag in his filing cabinet, gathered his belongings and made his way out of the building. All he wanted to do was get home, have a shower, eat his sandwich and pour himself 3 fingers worth of scotch to wash it down.

* * *

Barba felt marginally better after eating his sandwich, however the scotch would have to wait until after he stopped fielding work calls. Sunday was proving to be anything other than a day of rest for him. He felt tense and on edge, like a tightly coiled spring.

He decided to go for a quick run to shake out the cobwebs in his mind. It was marginally effective at best- every time he would hear a siren or see a police car his brain would short circuit right back to those few awful moments in his office. About 20 minutes into the run he decided to throw in the towel and head back. It was time for scotch.

A long shower did Barba a world of good. The hot pulsating water pounded against the back of his neck and shoulders, relieving what remained of his headache. He FINALLY poured himself the 3 fingers of scotch he’d been lusting after and sipped it while he began to prepare for the next day. He selected his clothes and accessories, (minus the suit as he still had to stop by the dry cleaners) and put all pertinent files in his briefcase.

Next he raided his pantry for snack food to bring along tomorrow. Scotch in hand, he made his way back to the bathroom to complete his evening routine. He wouldn’t say he was high maintenance, but he also wasn’t the type to use a shampoo/face/bodywash combo for all his grooming needs. You cannot exist on so little sleep and with such a high stress level without necessitating an eye cream or two. 

With the scotch glass emptied and the routine complete, Barba brushed his teeth and changed into a fresh pair of “sleeping boxers” and white t-shirt. The fine cut of his suits required form fitting undergarments, but he enjoyed the softness and breathability of cotton boxers at night. Of the highest quality material, of course. He lifted the covers, slipped into bed and adjusted his pillows until they were to his liking. With a deep sigh he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him.

It didn’t work.

While his body was at rest, his mind started racing. Evidently, he was still processing the events of the day. The afternoon was running through his mind as if it was a movie reel. He could hear Carisi saying “ _can we focus on the case at hand”-_ his first attempt at shutting down a personal conversation.

“ _Can we stop discussing my personal life”-_ in retrospect that statement should have stood out. Carisi had never been one to shy away from talking about his personal life. Barba was fairly certain half the precinct could draw the Carisi family tree if asked. Still, Barba rationalized, neither of those statements were as emotion charged as the later reaction would dictate. Maybe he should try counting sheep.

He got to 13 before his memory interrupted him. Barba could see Carisi’s mouth trying to get words out, but only managing a soft _“please”_ , when Rollins had brought up his date, followed by _“don’t talk about her like that”_. Carisi was ever the gentleman and a Catholic too. It seems reasonable that he wouldn’t want someone he cared about to be objectified. Fair.

Barba could tell Carisi was uncomfortable. He could see that he was trying to redirect the conversation, but he ignored it. He noticed when Carisi’s blush deepened, he could see when he was floundering, trying to speak. The last thing Carisi had said before shutting down was _“please Barba_ ”.

Barba felt his stomach drop. Why didn’t he just stop? What would it have taken for him to let it go? And how far would he have gone if Rollins hadn’t gotten that call?

Barba didn’t often have regrets over social missteps. His happiness was not dependent on the approval of others, and his likeability was of little importance to him. He wanted his work to speak for itself. The few social connections he maintained outside of work, namely Rita and Liv, survived because they had a high tolerance for snark and the were unfailingly honest in their words and actions. No social navigation was required. Any past social transgressions with others were quickly forgotten.

So why was this particular incident staying with him? Why couldn’t he get the image of Carisi’s tear filled eyes out of his head? This wasn’t the first time someone had cried in his office, and it wouldn’t be the last. If you could even call it crying- technically Carisi managed to keep the tears from falling in his presence. Who is to say that it wasn’t just a reflection of the fluorescent lighting against his sparkling blue eyes? That was plausible right?

_“Fuck you”_

Ok so profanity wasn’t usually Carisi’s go-to move but it was hardly the first time someone had thrown an F bomb at Barba. What can he say, he brings out the best in people? Maybe Carisi was already upset about something before he came in. His date was interrupted, that could be annoying right?

Except he didn’t seem upset when he came in. He had a wide smile when he saw Barba walking towards the office, dimples and all. Carisi looked downright cheerful for someone who had been called in on a Sunday afternoon. He’d gotten up to make coffee and find a snack for Barba after hearing his stomach rumble. That simple act of caring was done without discussion, as if Carisi didn’t require active thought to ensure that Barba’s needs were attended to. Like it was instinctual.

Barba closed his eyes again and tried to force sleep. And suddenly all he could hear were Carisi’s staccato exhalations of breath and all he could see was that slight quiver across his chin. Barba’s pulse started to quicken. There was no way he could get to sleep in that state.

He pulled back the covers and went to his medicine cabinet to retrieve his Ativan. He looked at the empty tumbler on his counter and immediately reconsidered. As much as he desired a full night’s rest, he wasn’t so desperate for it that he’d roll the dice by mixing alcohol with benzos.

He went back into his bedroom to grab his pillow, phone charger and duvet, before making his way back into his living room. Barba plugged in his phone, set 4 alarms (because 3 just wouldn’t do), and setup a makeshift bed on his sofa.

He turned on the television and found some inane home decorating show and lowered the volume. He’d make passive aggressive comments about societies infatuation with quartz countertops to lull himself to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day and he could set things right with the detective then.

He’d make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added the tag slow burn. When I created an outline for this fic I thought the entire story would be approximately 5000 words and that it would move quickly, but it kind of took on a life of it's own once I got started...
> 
> This is my first attempt to write fan fiction so constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged!


	3. Grape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sick days, edible arrangements and apologies by proxy leave Barba with more questions than answers.

Except Carisi wasn’t at work the next day.

Or the day after.

And Barba really didn’t know what to make of that.

* * *

[Earlier]

It wasn’t until Monday afternoon that Barba had realized that Carisi had taken a sick day.

He’d finally abandoned any hope of getting a restful sleep at around 5:00 AM that morning. A shower, a shave and an espresso later, he still felt haggard. His dry cleaner would not be open until 6:00 AM, so he could not begin to get dressed for work quite yet. He turned on the news and lasted a solid 8 minutes before the breakfast television personalities became too much. How anyone would willingly spend their time listening to that drivel was beyond him.

He decided to transfer the articles of clothing he had selected the night before into a garment bag and put on some casual clothes. Having already packed up his case files the night before, Barba collected his briefcase, the garment bag and left his apartment. He would be at the dry cleaners the moment it opened so he could get dressed at the office and start his workday early. Maybe he could look through his existing caseload and identify something interesting that Carisi could assist him with? Call it an olive branch.

Before long the office was abuzz with activity and Barba was on his way to court to try the Queens SVU case. As predicted, it went terribly. There is nothing quite like a professional embarrassment to kick off your work week.At least the warrants he’d arranged for Manhattan SVU had been fruitful.

He had been on his way to the coffee cart outside the courthouse when he received the call from SVU. They needed Barba to come and observe the interrogation to see if their suspect would give up a co-conspirator. He wondered if Carisi would be part of the interrogation, or if he would be watching behind the glass with Barba. Would Carisi stand as closely to him this time? Barba felt a twinge of something akin to angry butterflies at the thought.

When he entered the precinct Carisi was nowhere to be seen and his desk was empty, nary a coffee cup or pastry in sight. Fin was on the phone and Liv was in her office with the door closed. He approached Rollins who was at her desk eating dry toast and sipping a peppermint tea. Interesting.

 **“Feeling under the weather Rollins?”** he inquired. Maybe this was all a giant misunderstanding? Perhaps he had overblown everything that happened the day before. Everyone had an off day every now and then. And gastric upset at work would rattle anybody.

“Nah, power of suggestion” Fin offered while hanging up his phone.

_“I’m playing it safe. I don’t want any of my favourite foods ruined for me. I learned that the hard way after the cookie incident of 2010”_

**“Cookie incident?”**

“Of 2010?”

Amanda visibly shuddered at the memory. _“You bet. It was when I was still in Atlanta. One of the uni’s on my squad brought in a bunch of cookies to share. They failed to mention that their wife had been home baking with their toddler because he’d had the stomach flu and the daycare wouldn’t take him back for 48 hours. Suffice it to say my stakeout that evening was HIGHLY unpleasant.”_

Barba and Fin both winced at the thought.

_“I still can’t stomach the smell of nutmeg. Walking past a Yankee Candle store is a nightmare around Thanksgiving.”_

**“Yes. Well. That certainly paints a picture.”** While her trip down memory lane was off-putting, the information he’d gathered so far was that Amanda was not currently ill. And that there was still no sign of Carisi in the bullpen.

 _“You would do well to follow my lead counselor. Sonny was all over your office. If we make it to this evening without any surprises we should be in the clear.”_ Amanda continued, sipping the fragrant peppermint tea.

 **“I’ll take that under advisement…”** Barba replied, unsure what he could possibly add to this conversation.

“Somehow I think both of you will be just fine” Fin said while eyeing Barba, his expression both unnerving and yet impossible to read.

 _“I hope that everyone is fine and that Carisi is back tomorrow.”_ Liv supplied as she walked toward the group in the bullpen. “ _We’ve gotten lucky with a lull, but we are still down a detective. If nothing else comes in by 3:00 PM you can take off early.”_ She offered them. _“But right now, we have a suspect in interrogation and a job to do, so let’s get to it”._

Barba observed the interrogation, but the suspect said nothing that would directly confirm a co-conspirator or justify a warrant. He headed back to his office shortly thereafter. There was nothing more he could do for the squad at this point anyways. He could deal with the Carisi situation tomorrow.

* * *

Except he couldn’t. Because Tuesday rolled around and brought with it a slow workday and a resurgence of his acid reflux, but no sign of Carisi. SVU had hit a point of stagnation on their current case, so no one was stopping by office, and he hadn’t been summoned to the precinct either.

He thought about texting Carisi. Carisi had be in touch with his other colleagues that way, so presumably he was comfortable with that mode of communication outside of work. Except Barba still had no idea what to say. He regretted that their teasing had upset the detective on Sunday. He didn’t realize the detective was so sensitive.

Well that’s not entirely true, he knew he was sensitive, it’s just that he normally took the barbs in stride. Carisi had no qualms about laughing at himself and could weather having sarcastic comments or even looks of outright derision thrown his way. Except, of course, this past Sunday, when he wasn't laughing at all...

Barba then remembered the satchel that was still locked away in his filing cabinet. He could call the detective and ask him if he needed it urgently? But Carisi had not called him looking for it, which meant he either did not require it immediately, or that he did not wish to speak with him. Huh. He decided that was as good a reason as any to stop by the precinct. The guise of returning the satchel would provide a convenient segue into conversing with Carisi. Without tears, one would could hope.

He tidied up his desk and went to the filing cabinet to retrieve the satchel. It was heavier than he had remembered, but he supposed that he’d been distracted when locking it up on Sunday. He put the bag on his shoulder- well attempted to. The difference in height between the detective and Barba was readily apparent as the satchel was almost at knee level. He would not be seen in public like that! As luck would have it, Carmen kept a supply of non-descript tote bags around the office for those occasions that required one. In it went.

Barba stopped at a cafe on the way to pick up another coffee. It was required as a prop more than an energy boost. He was nervous and wanted to be able to feign nonchalance by casually strolling into the precinct, coffee in hand. It would be good to get this awkward bit over with and return to their regularly scheduled programming.

When he entered the bullpen the only one in sight was Fin, who was eyeing him curiously.

“Is there a case coming in that I don’t know about yet?”- he asked while leaning back in his desk chair, seemingly evaluating Barba’s presence.

 **“If there is, I haven’t been notified yet either”** , he advised, while placing his coffee down on an empty desk and continuing, “ **I actually stopped by to return Carisi’s satchel”,** he said as he lowered to the tote bag so that the satchel was visible. As if he needed to prove it.

“I’m sorry, but who calls anything a satchel”, Fin said, a smirk spreading across his face.

 **‘What would you call it then?”** Barba asked, irked at the line of questioning already.

“A bag”.

 **“OK then. I’m here to return Carisi’s bag”** , he rebuffed.

“Carisi’s not in today” Fin replied, ignoring the sarcastic retort. “Seems whatever got to him Sunday is still affecting him” he said while he held Barba’s eye contact.

Barba noted Fin’s use of words- _“got to him”,_ _“affecting him_ ”. Not ailing him or afflicting him. Did Fin know something he didn’t? Or was he just being paranoid? He was sleep-deprived. They sat in silence for a while, eying one another. Barba wasn’t sure if it was a tactic the detective used or simply his default expression. He still had Carisi’s satchel- bag- whatever, in his possession and did not know how to gracefully exit the situation without drawing more attention to himself.

As luck would have it, Rollins came bouldering into the bullpen holding a coffee cup in one hand and what appeared to be a breakfast burrito in the other. Perfect.

 **“You’ve successfully made it through the incubation period I see?”** Barba teased, chuckling to himself when the projection of his voice startled her. Her breakfast burrito had been the sole of her attention until that moment.

 _“Dodged a bullet counselor!”_ she announced cheerfully, _“Is that Carisi’s bag? I bet he’s been looking for it everywhere. He’s been attached to that thing since he got it. He must be going nuts. I can take it over to him after I finish this”_ she rambled, while settling into her desk and taking bites of her breakfast.

“I’ll drop that by his place, be sure he gets it” Fin interjected, “I’m heading by that way later on anyhow”. Odd. This menial errand does not seem like something Fin would typically volunteer to do. But what did Barba know? This was the most personal banter he’d had with the squad since… ever.

“ _You sure you want to be the one to make the trip? If his bitmoji tells me anything, it’s that he’s not in his finest form today”_ Amanda said with a chuckle.

 **“Bitmoji?”** Barba asked.

 _“You know the cartoon avatars? I don’t usually like them but his is spot on. Looks just like him”_ she said while inserting her cell into his hand.

It did. It looked just like him. He thought it was cute before determining that was absolutely absurd. He scrolled through the few images he had sent Rollins since Sunday- careful to avoid going too far back in the message history. He’d learned that lesson the hard way in the past. There were 5 images in total.

 **_Sunday:_ ** _Cartoon Carisi appearing to retch, followed by another image in which he looked forlorn, with the caption “sorry” printed above._

 **_Monday:_ ** _A distraught looking cartoon Carisi with half his face disappearing into a pillow and “I’m sick” captioned above._

 **_Tuesday:_ ** _Cartoon Carisi giving a thumbs up while also being squashed under a hippopotamus eating an ice cream, followed by another image of cartoon Carisi in front of a stained-glass window with the caption “Pray for Me”._

This was not a mode of communication Barba would pretend to understand, nor learn how to participate in. He would simply accept Rollins assessment of the meaning behind the images. The real takeaway from all this is that Carisi was clearly okay with Amanda after the teasing. Perhaps Barba’s concerns were overblown. Although he was beginning to wish he had received a text himself.

 **“I’m glad to hear the detective is well enough to text with you both”** he offered in response, handing Rollins her phone back as Liv walked into the bullpen.

 _“Barba, to what do we owe the pleasure”_ Liv inquired. Barba knew an opportunity when he saw one.

**“It has been a slow day and I had stopped by to return something of Carisi’s. I was actually hoping we could grab a coffee together.”**

_"You are currently holding a coffee…”_ she replied. And so he was. He’d picked up the coffee he’d purchased as a prop without even noticing it. Muscle memory.

“ **It’s like you don’t even know me”** he deadpanned, earning a soft chuckle from Liv and a look of fondness in his direction. It felt nice.

 _“Alright let’s take a walk. Call me if anything comes in ok_?” she called out to the team, as she walked side-by-side with Barba towards the elevators.

“You got it Liv. Take it easy counselor- and don’t worry. I’ll be sure Carisi gets this” Fin said pointing to the bag and locking in his desk drawer.

 **“I appreciate it detective. Send him my well wishes for a speedy recovery”** Barba stated. Fin nodded his confirmation he would.

And with that Liv and Barba exited the precinct and headed towards a coffee shop which served a decent brew.

* * *

Once they had ordered their beverages- Barba chose an Americano and Liv stuck with drip coffee- they made their way to a couple of easy chairs in the back corner. It was a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle near the front of the coffee shop and the street noise.

 _“So Rafa”_ Liv started, _“what’s wrong?”_

 **“What makes you think something is wrong?** ” Barba fired back, trying for a tone of incredulity.

_“I spoke with Carisi this morning”_

**“Oh? How is he?”** Barba replied, trying for a casual expression and failing.

 _“Well Rafa, he’s not doing too good”_ she replied while trying to make eye contact.

 **“That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry to hear that.”** And he was- especially because he may have played a part in that- a big part. **“I don’t see how that relates to me”** he lied. He needed to know exactly what Carisi had said to Liv. Maybe that would give him a clue as to what had happened.

_“When I mentioned that you had been in to observe the interrogation yesterday, he wanted me to relay his apologies to you, if I saw you before he returned.”_

**“He wanted to apologize to me? For what?”** Barba questioned.

Liv paused and took a sip of her coffee. She leaned slightly towards Barba and kept a neutral but warm expression. “ _He said that he was short with you”_ , she paused, searching his face for a reaction and then continued _“he said that he was not behaving like himself.”_

Barba felt hot under the collar. He attempted to maintain a neutral expression. Whatever Carisi had told Liv was the information Carisi felt she should have. He didn’t want to give away anything else that Carisi might have kept to himself. But he also desperately wanted some insight into what he had done wrong.

 **“I’m not sure I follow Liv”** , there, that was easy enough. Barba was not about to give anything away in this fishing expedition. If that’s what this was.

 _“To be honest, I’m not sure I do either Rafa. What happened after Rollins left to come meet me?”_ she asked gently.

 **“Carisi left almost immediately after her. I hadn’t even started making my calls before he departed. It was very…abrupt. His illness must have caught him by surprise.”** There, he thought, let’s see if that will do.

 _“It must have”_ , she agreed, accepting his response. _“It must have been a real doozy of a stomach bug. Did you know he hadn’t taken a full sick day since he finished at the academy? Outside of workplace injuries of course.”_

Well no, of course Barba would not know. And Liv would know that he didn’t know.

 **“That’s an admirable attendance record”** Barba supplied.

 _“Mmm”_ Liv nodded in agreement. “ _So, there is nothing I need to worry about here? My detective wasn’t unprofessional with you?”_

 **“No Liv, while he was in my office his only objective was to obtain the warrants for the case.”** And that was true, it was Rollins and Barba who had gotten sidetracked. “ **And as for him being short with me, you know my communication style, how would I even notice? Carisi’s worse day is like the average person’s good day”** he deflected.

Liv laughed in agreement. “ _Isn’t that the truth. You know I worked an 8-hour stakeout with him. It was overnight and he had a pinched sciatic nerve. That would turn anybody into a monster but not Carisi. The only sign something was amiss was that he had limited his hand gestures when speaking. If he got too animated it would twinge his back and he’d pause, but then keep going._ ”

 **“Huh”** , he offers, unsure where the conversation could go from here. **“Is there something you’re not telling me Liv?”** As much as Barba would like this conversation to end, he’s unclear of its aim.

“ _Immediately after mentioning he was short with you, he asked if he could take lieu time on Thursday and Friday. That’s unlike him. He’s always volunteering for overtime to help fund his tuition, so to receive a request to use banked time gives me pause. Especially when he could use that extra time to observe you in the courtroom. I know he’s found that helpful with his coursework. He says he’s an application-based learner and it’s the closest he can get to understanding the material.”_

Well there it is. That explains the sudden increase in Carisi’s attendance at his court proceedings. Barba isn’t sure if he should feel relieved or hurt.

**“I’m surprised he is completing courses this summer. It seems like a busy schedule, especially since Amaro’s position has not been filled”.**

Liv continued. _“You’re not wrong. Between his role at SVU, his studies and his personal life, he must have gotten run down. Perhaps I’m overreacting”_ Liv said, suddenly seeming unsure of herself _._

 **“I think it’s admirable that you care about the wellbeing of those under your employ”** , Barba reassured. **“I’m confident that if there was a problem of significance, Carisi would let you know. He’s not known for his reticence”** he joked. 

_“Thanks Rafa. I think I needed to hear that.”_

The conversation then moved on to lighter topics- Noah’s new favourite word, the Chinese food place that opened up near the precinct, and their mutual agreement that breakfast television was actually, the worst.

Barba walked Liv back to the station and returned to his office. He had a lot of information to process, and yet, further questions. He sat down at his desk and his calendar caught his eye. Tomorrow was the ACLU event that both Barba and Carisi (plus date) were due to attend. There was no way around it now- they needed to talk.

* * *

Another night of fitful sleep brought about Wednesday. Barba recieved an emergency call from SVU at 6:00 AM asking him to come in ASAP. They had picked up another suspect overnight and they were afraid he would lawyer up soon. He swiftly got dressed and took a taxi directly to the precinct, even forgoing a stop for coffee. He would drink the swill at the precinct if he must.

Barba exited the elevator and walked straight towards Liv’s office. She hadn’t had time to go over the case details during their phone call, as she was also trying to get herself (and Noah) ready for the day. He approached the bullpen and stopped dead in his tracks- Carisi was here. Not in person, Barba did not see anyone at their desk. But his satchel-sorry-bag, was hung over his desk chair. There were two discarded coffee cups on the desk surface and a GIANT edible arrangement, which appeared to have been somewhat picked over.

Fin cleared his throat- loudly. When did Fin get here? Barba turned around to see Fin smiling at him while stirring his coffee.

“Carisi and Rollins are in interrogation room 1” he supplied, while taking a sip of coffee. “You might want to grab a coffee for yourself while you can. Once Liv arrives, you’ll be monitoring us in interrogation 2. There’s a coffee traveller on Liv’s desk that Carisi brought in.”

 **“He brought in this edible arrangement as well I presume?”** \- Barba mused aloud.

“Who else” Fin chuckled, “help yourself to that too. Word has it you like the purple grapes best.”

 **“That I do…”** Barba stated, already gathering a handful of purple grapes. They were cold and the perfect texture and felt decadent in his mouth. It almost made up for the melba toast he choked down on his way in.

“He tends to notice that kind of thing” Fin responded, nodding towards the edible arrangement and answering the question Barba hadn’t asked.

 **“I thought Rollins was covering his shift today so he could attend an engagement”** he asked, moving the conversation along. Barba hoped his presence at the ACLU event wouldn’t deter Carisi from attending. A sharp contrast to his earlier feelings about it.

“He came in at 3:00 AM today so he should be done in time. I think he was feeling guilty for ducking out on Sunday. Told him we got his back, but you know how he is. I’ll make sure he leaves on time” Fin offered.

The atmosphere in the bullpen stretched into an awkward silence. Luckily at that moment Liv arrived.

_“Rafa, Fin, perfect. Let’s get started before the perp decides to walk.”_

And with that they all got to work. Two coffees and the entirety of the purple grapes later he still hadn’t seen Carisi in person. But he knew that Carisi was feeling better and that he had been thinking of him. Or at least thinking of what fruit he’d prefer in an edible arrangement. Barba would take it as a win. They would finally get the chance to clear the air.

Later, that is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone unfamiliar with an edible arrangement, it's a fresh fruit "bouquet". The fruit is shaped to look like a flower or covered in chocolate, placed on skewers and then arranged in a manner similar to a floral display. 
> 
> The last couple chapters have been mostly focused on Barba. We will see more of Carisi going forward. 
> 
> The length of the story seems to grow as the original outline unfolds. 
> 
> It's my first time writing fan fiction so constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!


	4. Mauve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An inspiring event and a blast from the past. Barba approaches Carisi about what happened on Sunday and it does NOT go according to his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is double the length of the others. I considered separating into multiple chapters but I couldn't identify a good spot to stop, so I posted it as one. Hopefully the spacing makes it easier to follow!
> 
> I added the tag canon-typical violence to be safe- it's a very brief and minor reference without graphic description.

Unfortunately, Barba was unable to talk with Carisi before the ACLU event began. He was relieved to know that whatever ailment had befallen the detective had resolved, but he still felt apprehensive about seeing him. To say that their last interaction was awkward would be putting it mildly.

As luck would have it, the interrogation Liv and Fin had performed was action-packed and kept Barba engaged all morning. Between the mind games, countless riddles, showboating and furniture throwing (literally), the suspect finished off the morning by confessing. The sudden use of song lyrics, character voices and miming- yes- miming, were both entertaining and needlessly dramatic.

Barba considered that it may have been an intentional performance done in hopes of obtaining an insanity defence. He advised the detectives to arrange for a psychiatric evaluation. It was better to be certain the individual was the real culprit and of sound mind before pursuing it further. They would be held for 72 hours, which meant that the case was in a holding pattern for the time being.

He had just enough time to stop by his office to drop off his bag, check in with Carmen, and freshen up before heading to the event. Rita had decided to join him after learning that one of their former classmates (her current her crush) would be a seminar facilitator. Barba was secretly grateful to have a human buffer for his eventual run-in with Carisi.

Rita had promised to meet Barba outside the venue for 2:00 PM sharp. When Barba’s cab pulled up, he spotted her immediately. She was in an incredibly formfitting pantsuit, a hot pink blouse and had a rainbow flower pin affixed to her lapel. Oh ya- she was going for it. She greeted him with a warm smile and an urgent look.

“Rafael, we MUST obtain coffee immediately after we finish at the registration desk.”

 **“We will Rita”** Barba placated, half listening.

“I’m serious. If I’m not caffeinated within the next 15 minutes I will perish.”

**“You and me both Rita.”**

They made their way into the venue and lined up at the registration desk. Rita looked around wildly trying to identify a caffeine source, and Barba casually scanned the room looking for Carisi. He landed on a different familiar face instead. It was the blonde- Carisi’s that is. She was standing directly behind the registration desk with a clipboard and a name tag.

Barba tried to covertly get a better look at her. She was younger than Carisi, but not by much. Along with the blonde hair that so captured his attention the first time they’d been spotted together, she had fierce brown eyes, an olive complexion and strong features that softened considerably when she smiled. She was certainly “buxom” like Rollins had described, with an equal mix of ample curves and the faint musculature of someone athletic. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was the cross-fit type. In and out in an hour, no muss no fuss.

“Hey, isn’t that the woman we keep spotting with your shadow?” Rita asked, openly staring at her.

 **“He's not my shadow… but I believe it may be yes”** Barba hedged- who was he to say for sure?

“Well done detective, I didn’t think the choir boy had it in him. Va-va-voom.” Rita emphasized.

Why had the women in his life started talking as if they were in a high school locker room? Some restraint would be appreciated.

**“Rita please, I beg you, can we maintain some semblance of decorum this afternoon?”**

“I took the rest of the week off so technically I’m on vacation” she quipped.

 **“And I’d like a vacation from wayward leering for the foreseeable. I’ve already had my fill for the day”** Barba stated as he shuddered, remembering the many colourful things the suspect had thrown his way that morning.

“Occupational hazard Rafael, I’m surprised you are not yet immune” Rita retorted without so much as even a hint of empathy. Traitor.

Suddenly they were right in front of her- the blonde that is. Or _Bianca Fioravanti- Fordham L_ aw, as her name tag would indicate. Barba was close enough to see a smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose and under her eyes. He wondered if that was something Carisi found endearing…

“ _Good Afternoon! We’ve got folks registered alphabetically by surname- I’ve got A through M and Jason here has N through Z. Can I start with your name?”_ she asked Rita.

Rita responded with her name and Bianca provided her with an itinerary and a map of the venue with the washrooms and refreshment locations highlighted. She pointed to the table where they could gather their name tags and advised that for security reasons they were required to keep them on. Thankfully they clipped to a lapel. Barba detested wearing any form of lanyard, and Rita had a hatred for name tag stickers that would “never stick to anything other than your hair”. Next it was Barba’s turn in line and Bianca greeted him with a warm smile. He wondered if she would know much about him, if anything. Would Carisi’s hero worship transcend outside the workplace? Did he talk about Barba in class? He presumed Carisi had met her at school, given that her nametag said Fordham Law.

 _“… name?”_ Bianca asked.

Barba startled. He must have zoned out long enough to miss her spiel. His heartbeat picked up as she looked at him closely. Had Carisi said anything to her about what had happened on Sunday? Surely, he’d confided in someone.

 **“Rafael Barba”** he said, attempting eye contact and a polite smile. Her eyes narrowed and he would have sworn he saw a momentary flicker of anger or annoyance in her expression. He guessed that answered his question.

She moved on to the next person in line and Barba and Rita collected their name tags. Barba did a quick scan of the table and spotted _Sonny Carisi- Fordham Law_. He guessed Carisi must still be in interrogation room 1.

As luck would have it, Rita had found the coffee, the colour of Barba’s name tag matched his tie and they both made it to the first seminar on time.

* * *

WOW.

You could summarize their first seminar in one word- incredible. Barba was rarely impressed by any speech, conference, presentation, or anything similar. The topic was _Transgender Rights in Public Life_ and the speakers had legal expertise related to housing, medicine, employment and criminal justice. Instead of just spouting facts and hopeful anecdotes for a rainbow filled future, these speakers had concrete ideas about how to enact change right now.

Barba liked to think of himself as well versed in LGBTQ+ issues, but this was an area he knew less about. There were a number of salient points that he could use when prosecuting sex crimes perpetrated against Trans persons. He could tell Rita was similarly moved and that was saying something. Although Barba was certain part of the appeal for Rita, was that their former classmate had been one of the facilitators. Barba could not deny that he felt a rush of emotion upon seeing him on the stage and hearing him speak. Albeit, for very different reasons.

Russel Tremblay had always been a force to be reckoned with. He was intelligent, passionate and had a deep commanding voice that demanded you listen. He had attended Harvard Law at the same time Barba and Rita did, but finished a year later than they had. Russell was forced to take a leave of absence partway through his studies to care for his dying father. A father with whom he’d had a complicated relationship, not unlike Barba’s with his own father.

Barba and Russell had not socialized together publicly during their time at Harvard. They’d both been intensely private and studious- as scholarship students they had everything to prove. In one moment of intense vulnerability they had bonded. Their peers had all escaped to their ski chalets and beach houses for the winter break. Barba and Russell had returned to the dorms as early as possible, both dreading being home.

They both believed that they were the only one present in the cold dormitory building, until they ran into each other in the hallway late one night. They were both very drunk and both very much in tears. Barba’s were angry, sparked by his father’s latest display of brute strength towards him, and Russell’s were mournful, about the trajectory of his law studies.

Barba hadn’t made it to boxing day before shit hit the fan, and a belt hit him. He’d consumed a mickey of whisky to wash down the feelings, but that night it only seemed to bring them closer to the surface. Russell had just found out his father was terminally ill and that he would have to withdraw from the upcoming semester. By that point his father would need around the clock care that the family simply couldn’t afford to pay for.

Russell had a case of beer, Barba had a large pizza, and somehow that led to a night of them laying on the dorm room floor, sharing pizza, beer and tears together. Russell helped Barba dress his wounds and Barba had helped Russell find the leave of absence policy in the school handbook. They whispered their war stories to one another amid hiccupped sobs and clenched fists.

They’d fallen asleep on the floor together amongst the empty bottles and discarded pizza crusts. After 2 hours of vomiting and a soda cracker breakfast they'd never spoken of it again. Russell took the leave of absence and Barba stayed the course. He’d occasionally seen Russell at professional development and bar association events. Both reminded each other of a pivotal time in their lives that they looked back on fondly, and yet, were aching to forget. It was a great comfort to Barba to see that Russell appeared to be doing well. A reminder that it was possible, even after everything.

* * *

Rita and Barba had retreated to the “breakout space”, which was essentially room with Wi-Fi and charging stations, to rest before their next session began. The next session was on prosecutorial reform and the LGBTQ+ community and truthfully the main reason Barba decided to attend this event in the first place. Russell entered the lounge and quickly spotted them. He approached with a wide smile that was infectious- you could not help but smile back. After showering Russell with the appropriate praise and kudos for the earlier seminar, they proceeded to catch up. 

Rita told him about private practice, with an emphasis on her pro-bono work, and the intentional avoidance of discussing her usual clientele. Russell updated them on his personal life. He’d loved, he’d lost, he was co-parenting a 7-year-old child in Queens. Rita raised an eyebrow at that one- Queens more so than the mention of offspring. Once you reached a certain age it was expected that future paramours may have reproduced somewhere along the way. Russell was about to discuss his work when he noticed Bianca and called her over. Was everyone in the legal profession acquainted with this woman? Barba had enjoyed catching up with Russell without an interloper. He'd been so distracted it allowed him to forget about Carisi for a time.

“Perfect timing! I was just about to tell my friends here more about what I do. Bianca I’d like you to meet Rita Calhoun and Rafael Barba” Russell said enthusiastically as he motioned to them.

“This is Bianca Fioravanti, one of my favourite former students and trusted advisor on LGBTQ+ youth” he continued.

“ _Russ, I bet you say that about all your students_ ” Bianca joked before continuing “ _it’s a pleasure to meet you again, I believe we were first acquainted at the registration desk_ ” she stated while walking closer towards them to firmly shake their hands.

“Charmed” Rita supplied, eying Bianca carefully. Barba figured she was sniffing out the competition.

 **“Russell was just about to tell us about his line of work now”** Barba said to Bianca, in hopes of redirecting the conversation.

Russell opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

_“Professor T!”_

Carisi rushed up to Russell from the side. Russell immediately greeted him with a big hug and clap on the back. Carisi looked positively jubilant at seeing his professor- his eye’s sparkled and his grin stretched the limits of his face. It was unabashed admiration. Barba might have thought he understood what hero worship was, but it didn’t hold a candle to this. Carisi turned towards Bianca and faltered slightly at seeing Barba. Barba also felt unnerved by Carisi’s sudden presence. He knew he was likely to run into him today, but this felt more like an ambush.

You would never know by looking at him that Carisi had been at work since 3:00 AM that morning. His hair was styled back, not a strand out of place, his suit looked freshly pressed and his tie was artfully knotted. The tie was mauve and complimented his grey gingham dress shirt perfectly. Perhaps he had taken a moment to shower and change at the precinct prior to heading over? The sound of laughter startled Barba. He must have zoned out while everyone became acquainted with one another. He thought he heard something along the lines of “small world” and figured that Russell now knew that Barba (and to some extent Rita) worked together with Carisi.

“… right Rafael?” Rita asked…. he had no clue what she had asked but didn’t want to draw attention to that fact. He gave her one of his sly smirks and she inferred the answer she wanted.

“We’re in” she confirmed to the group.

“Wonderful! What time shall we meet later?” Russell inquired.

Meet later!?! He had to stop focusing on Carisi and start figuring out what he’d been roped into.

 _“Don’t let us interfere with your plans Russ, Sonny and I have another seminar to attend here. You all enjoy.”_ Bianca responded on behalf of herself and Carisi.

 _“Yeah Professor T, we wanted to check out the seminar on the school-to-prison pipeline and the one about HIV/AIDS and incarceration. Go on and enjoy yourselves!”_ Carisi added cheerfully.

“Rafael and I are attending the prosecutorial reform sessions, so we won’t finish up for a while longer either- do you have any other sessions today Russell?” Rita pivoted.

“I was actually planning to sit in on a session a colleague is facilitating on LGBTQ+ youth treatment in the foster system” Russell advised.

 _“Man, I wish I could be in two places at once”_ Carisi responded to Russell’s statement.

That surprised Barba. He was shocked that Carisi wasn’t taking more of an interest in the sessions he was attending. Perhaps Bianca’s interests had influenced his choices. Although his response to the last statement was so quick it seemed like an automatic response, rather than a targeted move.

“Tell you what, I’ll invite my colleague to join us and she can tell you all about it over drinks. She loves an enthusiastic audience and I know you two can deliver on that” Russell says addressing Bianca and Carisi. They both laughed and nodded in agreement.

“And I know she’s always found your work interesting Rafael. Or at least the work that has made it to the newspaper headlines” Russell continued.

 **“That’s very flattering, although I’d hate to disappoint. Much of what I do is far less salacious than what hits print media”** Barba offered as an attempt at humility.

“Oh, come off it Rafael we both know you love nothing less than peacocking” Rita chirped in. Again, Rita, traitor!

“So that’s settled then! I’ll book a table for six at HOPS. It’s a craft beer bar that some of us would be a bit old for typically, but the owners are a sweet queer couple and they host theme nights during pride month.”

“What’s the theme tonight Russell?” Rita asked, intrigued.

“It’s called _Fun with Flags_. The food and drink presentation will be arranged by colour to denote a specific flag from the LGBTQ+ community, followed by trivia about the flags. Once it is past my bedtime they will have a dance party and hand out flag stickers for folks to choose to self-identify.”

Barba was beginning to have some questions about how close Russell was with the owners...

 _“That’s so awesome”_ Carisi says quietly under his breath. Just as Rollins had stated- Carisi really did enjoy theme parties.

 **“Are you sure we won’t be intruding on the space? Or driving away their preferred clientele on a busy night?”** Barba asked. He wasn’t feeling confident about this decision.

“It’s become an informal gathering space for facilitators from the ACLU event so the crowd will be mixed in demographic and likeminded. We can have a few drinks, enjoy some food and get better acquainted. Us older folks will take our leave before the hour strikes midnight and the bar scene crowd comes in.”

There was more excited chatter amongst the group and Barba acquiesced to the plan as set forth. Rita had set her sights set on Russell, the night school crowd seemed ecstatic to get more face time with their old professor, and one of Russell’s colleagues would engage Barba in work chatter. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

* * *

Barba got just as much, if not more, out of the last seminar he attended. He felt invigorated and looked forward to their evening plans. Carisi had been a bit standoffish with him, but appeared to have no reservations about agreeing to a group dinner with him. Barba would try to find a private moment to officially apologize to Carisi for the teasing. He figured doing this over drinks couldn’t hurt.

“Rafael you are going to be pleasant so we can enjoy ourselves tonight. You will not make unnecessarily snarky comments, you will not insult the food, you will drink something other than scotch and you will stay the entirety of the evening. Do I make myself clear?” Rita stipulated.

 **“I’m sorry Rita, did I miss the moment where we got married and you became a nagging spouse? Because I must say if that’s the road we went down I’d have at least expected to be an additional cardholder on the trust fund account”** Barba threw right back at her.

“Oh please, like you would know what to do with a trust fund. You owe me Rafael! I’ve saved you from numerous DA’s office events with a faux crisis. Our lives are stressful and we deserve a break. I need this. You need this!” 

He saw Russell walking towards them and recalled the night they had spent together on the dorm room floor. The empathy, the understanding, his gentle touches tending to his wounds. He can admit that he could use more friends like that. He should take this invitation as the olive branch that it was.

**“Fine I accept your terms.”**

* * *

The bar was better than he'd expected. Russell had reserved a round shaped booth which offered some privacy and a sound barrier from the worst of the bar noise. The food and drink offerings, while novelty in presentation, were surprisingly delicious. True to his word, Barba decided to partake in craft beer rather than his usual scotch. He ordered a beer flight, which had three 5oz pours, each tinted a different colour. According to the flag listing he was enjoying the “polysexual”, which was a new term for him. He supposed a lot had changed over the years and that there was a new appreciation for nuance in the queer community. 

Russell’s colleague had joined them, and she was such a dynamic speaker she had everyone captivated for two rounds of drinks. Barba learned that Russell had been a sessional lecturer at Fordham Law night school for two years, before leaving to focus entirely on law reform. He’d kept in touch with students who were involved in his advocacy work outside of campus. Which led to another surprising revelation about Carisi- in addition to working as a full-time detective and attending night school, he was also involved with a legal advocacy group that assisted LGBTQ+ asylum seekers.

Barba also learned all about Bianca and he had to admit, she was quite accomplished at her young age. She had completed a degree in Social Work at Colombia, was working full-time at a shelter for LGBTQ+ youth and was also completing law school at Fordham. At night of course. It was hard to ascertain the nature of the relationship between Bianca and Carisi. There was no outright PDA, although he supposed it was possible Bianca wasn’t demonstrative with affection in public. Barba would have pegged Carisi for the arm around the shoulder, hand on the knee type for sure. Or handholding at a minimum. 

There were some signs they were closer than classmates, but they were subtle. The way Carisi would reorient his body posture when he started speaking animatedly- like he was familiar with how to gesticulate without encroaching on her space. The most obvious tell was sickeningly sweet. Whenever someone told a joke or shared a humorous anecdote, Carisi would turn to look at Bianca just before she started laughing. It was like he could anticipate her response and reveled in observing it. To be fair, she did have one those great laughs- the kind where the person goes silent, but their face turns red and their eyes tear up and you can’t help but laugh along with them.

Other than experiencing less hero worship and reduced eye contact, Carisi was acting fine with Barba. He’d made jokes, looped him into conversations about some of the work snafu’s he’d gotten himself into and how had Barba responded to them. Nothing he said painted Barba in a bad light, and it was all told with a smile and a laugh.

Rita had delighted in sharing the story about how Barba had provoked a defendant to strangle him with a belt in open court- complete with a re-enactment that had the whole table in tears laughing. They ordered more drinks and participated in the flag trivia. It was helpful having Bianca and Carisi on their team- Rita was familiar with one flag, Barba knew of three of them and Russell wasn’t confident in any of his guesses.

After the first round of trivia ended, Russell’s colleague had to depart to relieve her nanny, Rita and Russell decided to go outside to share a cigar of all things, and Bianca got an emergency call from her shelter that she had to deal with. This left Carisi and Barba alone at the table. It was their first true moment of privacy since the events that occurred on Sunday.

Carisi was three beers in at this point and Barba was also suitably lubricated. Barba attempted to start a conversation about what had happened but Carisi kept dodging it to talk about their current case. Barba kept pushing to address the elephant in the room. He figured now was as good a time as any to clear the air.

He was mistaken.

* * *

**“Carisi, I think we should talk about what happened on Sunday.”**

_“I’d rather we didn’t Barba, I’m having a nice night.”_

**“I am as well, which is why I think now would be a good time.”**

_“I disagree. I’m off work for the next two days. We can talk about this on Monday.”_

**“Or we could talk about it now and the week could start with a clean slate. I think we’d both prefer it.”**

_“I think my intentional avoidance of the subject and direct request to table the discussion are clear indicators of my preferences counselor."_

**“Can we just be adults and get this over with? Rip off the band aid.”**

_“God, OK, fine, if you insist say your piece before we have an audience."_

Barba stopped to take a deep breath and a sip of beer before continuing. 

**“Carisi, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”**

_“Hurt my feelings?”_

**“Yes.”**

_“That’s what you’re sorry for?”_

**“Yes?”**

_“That’s it?”_

Barba was confused as to what Carisi was looking for by-way of apology? He’d teased the detective, but it was hardly earth shattering. Why was he dragging this out. Wasn’t it time to let bygones be bygones?

**“What else is there Carisi?”**

Carisi laughed, but not in humour. Something dark crossed over his eyes. Now it was Barba who was on the receiving end of an outright look of derision. How the tables had turned.

 _“You know what, no. I’m not open to whatever wordsmithing you’ve concocted to explain away your behaviour so let’s not even start.”_ Carisi said with finality.

But he didn't look finished. It looked like he was about to open his mouth and speak again. He kept pursing his lips, then opening his mouth as if to talk, then shaking his head and closing it again.

**“I know that the teasing upset you, but I never meant to—"**

And that was the tipping point for Carisi.

The forehead vein Barba had observed on Sunday was back with a new side kick- the nostril flare. Carisi had paraded around his Italian heritage since the day he’d met him, but Barba had trouble seeing past the pale complexion and blonde locks. It was easy to spot it now. Based on the look Carisi was giving him, if Barba was a character on an HBO series, his fate would include some concrete boots.

 _“You never meant to what Barba? Hm? Humiliate me in front a colleague? Or out me to get a few laughs?_ _Because I honestly can’t see what other intention would be behind your actions_ ” he spit out, keeping his voice low and his tone furious. Carisi was starting to get flushed, but this time it seemed to start at the base of his neck and work its way up. This wasn't embarrassment, it was anger. 

Wait. WAIT. WHAT!?! Did Carisi just say that Barba had outed him? Outed him as what? Someone with a penchant for blondes? A kiss-ass? Barba’s train of thought was interrupted by Carisi’s next retort.

_“Doesn’t feel too good to be called out by a colleague now does it counselor?”_

Barba was still trying to piece together what Carisi had said when he continued.

 _“What you got nothing to say now? You were so insistent we speak. I must say I didn’t realize that you were so tight with Rollins. There is usually a certain amount of discretion allotted to members in the community. But I guess I was wrong to assume you were capable of any”_ Carisi spat out.

Members of the community? Discretion? What the… oh. It finally clicked. SHIT.

 _“I won’t make that mistake again”_ Carisi continued.

Carisi was gay? Bisexual? Trans? Ace? Intersex? Barba was unsure, but he knew one thing for certain now- he’d inadvertantly outed a colleague in the workplace. FUCK.

 **“I had never considered-”** he said, his mouth moving quicker than his brain as he tried to formulate a response. Carisi was quicker than them both.

_“What? That outing a cop could be really fucking dangerous? That you might be putting my personal safety at risk? Or my partners? That the next time I need to call a 10-13, the folks on the other side of the radio might pause to consider if they care that this officer is down?”_

“ **Carisi, I-”**

 _“I’m not even a beloved member of my own squad, I don’t need any more enemies when I’m on the job. Especially not internal ones”_ Carisi said, lowering his volume of speech further, as if he believed he had been shouting.

Carisi's voice gave him goosebumps and his heartbeat picked up. Barba would never want to do ANYTHING that would put a member of their team- Liv's team- at risk. Of course he would not have said anything if he knew! 

**“I had no idea…”** Barba started.

_“That the NYPD isn't universally LGBTQ+ friendly? I’ve always believed you to be an intelligent man, don’t pretend to be a moron now.”_

Moron- wow. Carisi never used language like that. Carisi had never communicated with him in any manner similar to this. Barba’s stomach was a wreck and full of angry butterflies. He supposed this was a physical manifestation of guilt. He suddenly felt like he was 10 years old again and his father was calling him a moron and getting ready to swat him.

 **“You just didn’t present that way, to me…”** Barba tried, searching for any way to explain himself.

 _“And how do I present?”_ Carisi implored.

 **“Painfully heterosexual.”** It was honest, but not tactful and certainly not the wording Barba would have chosen if he’d engaged in any active thought before it came tumbling out of his mouth.

“ _The only thing that is painful is this conversation.”_

**“Yes, well, at least we’re are in agreement there.”**

Silence.

Carisi gave him a look of utter disbelief and Barba returned it with a look of sheer confusion. His mind was rapidly trying to catch up with what had just been said so he could formulate a plan. He needed a recess from this line of questioning. Carisi leaned forward and made direct eye contact with Barba. Clearly, he had more to get off his chest.

_“OK. I’ll bite. What is it that made you think I was “painfully heterosexual”? So much so that even my apparent “obsession with you” and presence at MULTIPLE pride month events did nothing to even give you an inkling.”_

Responding is a bad idea. This conversation was a bad idea. But Barba is feeling cornered and a bit out of control. He is speaking before his mind can even register the words.

 **“You’re entire existence! The way you talk, the way you dress, your ardent Catholicism, the way you moon over women…”** Barba spurted out and then immediately regretted it. What was he even saying? Had he lost his mind?

 _“Is that it? Well I SINCERELY apologize! My Staten Island accent doesn’t quite allow for the vocal range you’re expecting counselah”_ Carisi said, playing it up.

_“Luckily they were kind enough to issue my queer card without it.”_

Queer card- so Carisi was queer? That could mean a lot of things Barba mused. He'd hoped he could use that tidbit of information to redirect the conversation. But Carisi was just getting started.

 _“And_ _I don’t know about your familiarity with basic household economics, but a cop doesn’t usually have the spare cash to look like a walking Brooks Brothers ad”_ he said, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

Nothing Barba owned, nor would ever own, was from Brooks Brothers. But he didn’t say that to Carisi, because it was NOT the time to discuss fine tailoring. Barba wished he’d never brought the conversation down that path and was kicking himself for opening his big mouth. Again.

 _“_ _You think I’m copying you because- what- I bought a few new things? Had you never considered that some people upgrade their wardrobe a bit at a time? When they have the money, or the motivation, or a spare moment to breathe?”_

In hindsight, yes, Barba can remember when his wardrobe decisions were made by balancing the cost of groceries against the cost of refinement. He had lived in an apartment without real furniture for over a year when he had first started out. A futon and some storage bins being the only thing keeping him and his things off the floor. His things being three exquisitely tailored suits.

_“I’ve spent the majority of my career in uniform, and I only ever needed dress clothes for baptisms, funerals and weddings. In that order. And this may be a surprise to you, but I’m not exactly a guy who looks in great in something pulled off the rack. I’m about 4 inches too tall and 30 pounds too light, and that’s being generous…”_

Barba could see how purchasing items off-the-rack would be difficult for someone as long and lean as the detective. Especially considering he was all leg. A few brands that would cater to his body type came to mind, but again, now was not the time to provide Carisi with fashion tips.

_“…I get things made as I can. Sometimes I wear things that are gifted to me. Or I wear what is clean or available in my locker after a week of hell. Not that I owe you or anyone else a fucking explanation for what I put on my own god damn body.”_

Barba swallowed deeply, trying to quell down the nausea he was feeling. Carisi was really yelling at him. Not in volume, but in ferocity. He’d never heard the detective use this tone before. The animosity in his eyes and the tension in his body language made Barba feel uneasy. He was trying to remain stoic in posture and remorseful in expression, but he wasn’t certain if he was accomplishing either. It didn’t look like Carisi was done speaking, which was a blessing in disguise, because if Barba had to try and speak now, he feared he’d burst into tears.

_“You truly believed I was following you. Copying you, and what? Pretending to be queer? What sort of a person does that? You think so poorly of me that you believe I’d do that? That’s what really hurt. It wasn’t just blatantly outing me and joking at my expense, it was knowing you don’t see me as a peer. That I’m some sort of joke to you- to everyone really. That’s what made me feel sick to my stomach.”_

If there was ever a time for Barba to be quiet, pause, and take a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking, this was it. Unfortunately, that was not the path he took.

 **“So, you weren’t really ill these late few days…?”** Barba asked curiously, regretting each word as it left his mouth.

_“OH. MY. GOD. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Seriously Barba?”_

**“I didn’t mean that how it sounded, Carisi, I-"** Barba tried.

He was glad that his hands were under the table, because otherwise Carisi would see they were visibly shaking. He was trying to keep the rest of his body from following suit. Why did he keep making this situation worse? Was he that inept at apologizing? Where the fuck was Rita!?!

 **“I just meant you didn’t have anything contagious-”** he tried, as if that would make things any better.

_“I carry a WEAPON. I work with special victims. As in vulnerable people who going through a deeply personal trauma. Including CHILDREN. If my judgement is impaired or my capacities are limited in ANY way physiologically, mentally or emotionally I cannot do my job. Period. The cause of my vomiting doesn’t matter for Christ’s sake.”_

**“Of course, I…”**

Carisi just stared at him, his expression daring Barba to finish that thought. The words die on his lips.

_“You know they should ask you to be a guest lecturer in my night class. You can give a speech on apologizing in the workplace. Because really, Barba, you’re killing it here."_

Carisi lifted his pint glass to his lips and took a long gulp, keeping his eyes averted from Barba. When he'd finished he slammed the glass back down on the table, and returned his eyes towards him. He was waiting for Barba to respond. 

**“I don’t know what to say….”** Barba whispered. And he didn’t. He had been verbally bettered by Carisi. Not that Carisi was listening to him at this point. His rant continued.

**_“_** _I am capable of having a wide range of emotions and not all of them are pleasant. You know feelings? Like a human person...”_

Barba never doubted the detective’s ability to feel a range of emotions. Unemotional would be one the last descriptors he would choose for the detective. He kept those thoughts to himself as Carisi continued speaking.

_“…I can usually control them well enough to get through my workday, but what can I say, you really found a sore spot and pressed on it good. I’ve encountered a lot of trauma on the job without crying my eyes out at work. So consider it an accomplishment that you managed to inspire it in an afternoon."_

Barba didn’t think he could possibly feel worse, but he did. The fact that Carisi used the phrase “crying his eyes out” confirmed what had happened in the DA’s office bathroom on Sunday. It was one thing hypothesizing about it, but another thing entirely to know for certain he’d been the cause of so much misery for Carisi.

He wanted so desperately to redirect the conversation. To apologize profusely, to get back to making wisecrack remarks and engaging in banter with one another. Barba didn’t know how to smooth this over, but he’d damn well try. 

“ **Technically, you didn’t cry in front of me. You’re eyes watered, but you managed to keep the tears in.”** OK, not the best attempt right out of the gate, but at least he didn’t make it worse…

_“That isn’t the consolation you think it is Barba.”_

He can hear Carisi take another large pull from his pint and swallow deeply. Carisi lets out a deep sigh of frustration through his nose, his jaw clenched. Barba’s heart rate continued to increase. His legs were shaking uncontrollably now and he felt like he was in fight of flight. He genuinely feared what would come next. 

_“I guess I believe you weren’t certain of my sexuality. You did so generously offer to give me, what was it, an “Ally of the Month” participation ribbon? Although if we count the seminar and this evening as two events, I think I’m due for that trophy”_ he said with a singsong voice and a look that made Barba shudder.

**“Carisi I-”**

_“Don’t worry Barba, I’m still looking into that star-spangled pizza you requested. What was it that Rollins said? Carisi commits?”_ he said with a smile that was anything but happy.

Hearing his own words parroted back to him did not feel good. He can only imagine how hurtful it had been when Carisi was on the receiving end of them. He felt his face and neck flush, and he hoped it wasn’t visible in the dim bar lighting. All of his effort was put into schooling his features and willing his body to stop shaking.

He had fucked up. He had really fucked up. And Carisi was furious with him. Barba never meant to be so careless, so cavalier with someone’s privacy. He knows what being outed is like and he’s ashamed to have done this to someone else. Especially someone like Carisi.

_“I’m not even going to touch the comments about religion or women. We are going to be cordial colleagues and get through this evening. We will not ruin anyone’s night. I'm not discussing this with you anymore. Do not talk to me be about it ever again.”_

**“Carisi-”**

_“CAPICHE!?!”_

Barba simply nodded his understanding. Words were his only weapon, his only defence mechanism in this world and they had failed him. In fact, they had been the source of the conflict to begin with.

He tried to secretly take a few deep breaths to slow down his heart rate and reduce the flushing he knew must be visible by now. His body was still trembling, but it was mostly under the table. It could be mistaken for restlessness or attributed to the aggressive air conditioning.

Barba brought his pint glass to his mouth and took a slow sip, hoping that this would quell the emotion lodged in his throat. He needed to get himself under control before Rita and Russell returned. They would both pick up on his emotions, and Rita would surely comment on it. He was not certain he could talk without tears yet.

Bianca swooped in at that moment. She had completed her phone call and assessed the situation from a distance. She placed a hand on Carisi’s shoulder, which appeared to instantly soothe him- his furrowed brow relaxed, his fists unclenched, and his shoulders returned to their normal position.

 _“Sonny, Edmund and Riley are here and they just stepped outside for some fresh air if you’d like to join them? I’ll go order us another round of food from the bar. Table service stops after 10:30 PM”_ she offered.

Carisi seemed to take the exit that was offered. He gave her a smile and thanked her, stating that he would be right back. Carisi walked toward the bar entrance and left to get some fresh air with whoever Edmund and Riley were. Possibly fictional characters for all Barba knew. He recognized a de-escalation technique when he saw one. 

Barba realized he’d been staring at the back of Carisi's head since he had left the booth. He looked back towards the booth and caught Bianca’s eyes. She seemed to look right through him, but said nothing and left to go order the food. 

* * *

Rita was making her way towards the table alone and observed the interaction between Bianca and Barba. Russell must have taken a bathroom break after the cigar. 

“Who pissed in her cornflakes?” Rita asked with curiosity.

 **“I believe I did”** Barba responded without thought.

“Kinky.”

**“Rita please.”**

“What did you do Rafael?” she asked in a more demanding tone.

 **“I can’t tell you”** he said firmly, sucking down the remainder of his drink as if his life depended on it. 

“Why?”

**“Because then I would be repeating the mistake.”**

“Was the mistake sniffing around her man?”

“ **Absolutely not!”**

“Oh good, because I think your sinuses could use the break” she deadpanned.

**“And on that cheerful note, I think it is time for me to depart.”**

“Don’t even think about it Rafael, you are staying put. I’m not about to double date with a detective and a social worker.”

**“That’s a bit classist, even for you Rita.”**

“It has nothing to do with socioeconomic status and everything to do with the bleeding-heart rhetoric that we seem to be stuck on here. I need a conversational pivot. That's where you come in.”

 **“I see your limit for demonstrating empathy was one afternoon. Good to know you're back in your original form.”** Barba had no idea if his retort was witty or logical, but he hoped that it disguised his distress. 

Carisi returned to the table looking serene and smelling faintly of cigarettes. We all have our vices. Russell and Bianca came back with the promised food and another round of drinks. Everyone seemed to have settled into the friendly chatter from earlier. You’d have never known that anything was amiss.

Barba felt nervous and introspective. He was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but Carisi’s anger had frightened him. He wanted to leave but had no idea how to disengage. He’d promised Rita that he would stay to the end. Carisi had specifically told him not to ruin anyone’s night and Russell had gone out of his way to be hospitable.

When his phone rang loudly, he was momentarily embarrassed for having forgotten to silence it earlier. The caller ID lit up his phone display and showed his mother’s name. This would normally be worrisome for Barba- his mother did not make a habit of calling him so late on a weeknight. But he knew she had returned from travelling and was still experiencing jet-lag.

Barba had never been so thankful for a telephone interruption from his mother. This was the out he needed.

 **“Excuse me I have to take this. It’s my mother and it’s unusual for her to call this late and we've had some family trouble...”** Barba stated, letting his current emotion show through his tremulous voice. He hoped it would be attributed to anxiety over the unexpected call from his mother. He seemed to sell it well, as both Rita and Carisi looked concerned.

He walked away from the table and went outside to where it was quieter. Barba let his mother talk for as long as she wanted, being mindful of his surroundings and keeping a lookout for anyone from his party. She'd picked up on his emotional distress immediately, so he lied and said he was dealing with a difficult case that was still haunting him. He was never that forthright about a case with his mother, and his response only seemed to elevate her concern. Great, Barba thought to himself. He'd managed to upset another person this evening. He was able to pacify her by agreeing to dinner the next day.

Once he’d finished the call, Barba returned to the table to retrieve his suit jacket and make his exit.

 **“I’m sorry to interrupt”** he addressed the group who was in the middle of an animated conversation “ **I have an urgent matter I have to attend to immediately. I apologize for leaving so abruptly.”** Barba reached into his wallet and placed $100 on the table. “ **We will have to do this again sometime, if you’ll excuse me.”**

Barba booked it out of there before anyone had a moment to respond. He wanted to get a cab, but still felt nauseated and freaked out. He decided that walking 30 blocks home was the better choice.

* * *

Barba arrived home and was consumed with guilt. He could not believe the mistake he had made- both on Sunday and today. He thought a lot about what had happened on his walk. Barba questioned why his first inclination would be that Carisi was copying him, or only attending events because he was there. He didn't have an answer.

He wouldn’t have to worry about hero worship anymore. The way that Carisi looked at him tonight, how he'd spoken to him... Carisi had described the depths to which Barba had hurt him and it guaranteed that he saw him differently now. And not in a good way. Barba still felt nauseated, sweaty and tense. He decided to have a shower to wash off the sins of the day, and hopefully release enough tension that he'd be able to sleep.

If anyone ever asked, he’d categorically deny it, but he wept for an hour, as the water rained down over him. He stayed well past the point where it ran cold, before turning it off. He proceeded to down 2 fingers of scotch and crawled into bed, praying that sleep would take him. 

* * *

**2:47 AM**

_3 new messages from Det. Carisi._

Shit.

Round two?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ACLU event in this story is fictional (as far as I know). I did some research into the types of issues the ACLU focuses on to get some American context. There is a glut of information on their website and if you are at all curious I highly recommend looking into it. They do such great work!
> 
> The Fun with Flags event described is inspired by a pride party I hosted ages ago. Yes, it was cliche and I regret nothing. Also the name "Fun with Flags" was lifted from Sheldon Cooper's show on The Big Bang Theory.


	5. Lilac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say you should never to go sleep angry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost exclusively text messages and dialogue. I tried to format the spacing to make it easier to read but I'm unsure if it worked ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Barba was surprised.

Surprised to be receiving a message at 2:47 AM, surprised that Carisi still wanted to communicate with him at all.

Barba wasn’t confident he was ready to open the message. He’d been tossing and turning in bed and his anxiety was nearing a 10. If he hadn’t spent the evening dousing his liver in hops and scotch, he’d have taken a sleeping pill in a heartbeat. He ran his hands over the material of his pajama pants which helped to ground him.

He’d purchased them partly on impulse and partly out of necessity a decade ago when travelling for work. He was placed in a godforsaken motel in “who the fuck knows” rural NY and the room only had two temperature options- arctic tundra or stale sauna. He opted for the tundra.

They were lilac with a faint grey stripe and the softest jersey cotton he’d ever felt from a big box store. They were well-worn, almost threadbare and left nothing to the imagination. He only wore them when he was in desperate need of comfort. Namely breakups, diets and deaths. And now, Carisi related angst.

His cell chimed again to remind him of the messages waiting.

It couldn’t be about work- Liv had said Carisi was taking Thursday and Friday off. Carisi had been at a bar most of the evening and had been up for 24 hours now. He’d made it clear he wouldn’t engage in police work when his judgement could be compromised.

Barba put on his glasses and unlocked his phone. He may as well read the messages now while he had a bit of buzz left. 

> **[2:47 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _Listen Barba._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _I’m sorry I yelled at you._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _It was unprofessional._

Huh. Not exactly worth breaking a sweat over. It seemed like Carisi was trying to smooth things over so they could continue working together. Barba could appreciate that. 

> **[2:57 AM]**
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _It wasn’t undeserved._

> **[2:58 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _Still._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _I don’t like how we left things._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I don’t want to be in a fight with you._

Barba was relieved to read that. He didn’t want to fight with the detective either. He took a few deep breaths before responding. If he’d learned anything earlier in the evening, it was to let his mind catch up with his mouth before speaking. Or typing, in this case.

> **[3:00 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _We didn’t leave things any which way. This one is on me Carisi. You did nothing wrong. We’re not fighting. Don’t let it keep you up at night._

And Barba meant it. There was no reason for them both to lose sleep over his mistake. His stomach turned again. What was that saying about mixing liquor and beer? It had been ages since he’d imbibed so carelessly. He couldn’t recall how many drinks he’d had.

> **[3:00 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _Well it is._

> **[3:01 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _For that I am sorry. Truly._

> **[3:01 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I am too._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I really mean it._

> **[3:02 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _I know you do._

> **[3:02 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I hate that I raised my voice at you. I feel sick just thinking about it._

Only Carisi could call someone out for harming him and then immediately feel compassion for them. Barba did not feel worthy of his concern. And he hated the thought of Carisi feeling ill again.

> **[3:03 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _As much as it pains me to say it, I was entirely in the wrong Carisi. My blatant disregard for your privacy was cruel._

> **[3:03 AM]**
> 
> **_Carisi:_** _You didn’t mean it to be that way._

> **[3:04 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _My intent is not what matters- it is the impact. I outed you to a colleague and when you got understandably upset, I blamed you for my mistake._

> **[3:04 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _It wasn’t that bad._

> **[3:04 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _It was enough emotional duress to make you physically ill. You missed two full days of work and from what I’ve been told, you had a perfect attendance record._

> **[3:04 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _Who told you that?_

> **[3:05 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _Your boss did._

> **[3:05 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Oh geez. Why would she do that?_

> **[3:05 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _It came up in conversation when she was passing on your apology for being “short with me”._

> **[3:05 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _God that’s embarrassing._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I don’t know why I told her that._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I panicked after I swore at you._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I didn’t know what you’d say to her._

Barba didn’t like the sound of that. Was the detective afraid he would make a formal complaint with the department? What could he have even said? That the detective used one expletive? That would hardly be grounds for discipline.

> **[3:06 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _Were you concerned I would make a complaint about your conduct?_

> **[3:06 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _No._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Maybe._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I didn’t know. I was pretty hopped up on meds when I called Liv._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I wish I hadn’t said that. Please don’t tell her that._

That was an interesting factoid, Barba thought to himself. Maybe the cheerful detective had his own dark moments too. Barba could certainly identify with that. Not that he would ever tell a soul.

> **[3:07 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _So long as they were prescribed and taken as directed, we can keep that between us._

> **[3:07 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Yes._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _And yes._
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I just really am sorry. Really really really sorry._

Barba felt increasingly uncomfortable being on the receiving end of Carisi's apologies. The man had been the victim here and Barba deserved every bit of vitriol he’d received that evening. Had the situation been reversed he doubted he'd have been half as restrained in expressing his feelings about the matter.

> **[3:07 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _Carisi you don’t owe me an apology. You can stop apologizing._

> **[3:07 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I can’t stop._

> **[3:08 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _Why not?_

> **[3:08 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I can’t until I know you forgive me._

That was a stretch. Barba could understand Carisi feeling sorry about what had happened, in the sense that Carisi seemed to feel sorry for everything bad that happened in the world. But he didn’t need to ask for Barba's forgiveness. There was nothing to forgive. Barba wondered what else might be troubling the detective. 

> **[3:08 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _How can I forgive a transgression that never occurred?_

> **[3:08 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Huh?_

> **[3:09 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_** _If you didn’t do anything wrong, there is nothing to forgive._

> **[3:09 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Forgive me for taking off like I did on Sunday, for ignoring you earlier today, for yelling at you. I really didn’t mean to make a scene like that. I tried to keep it together. I don’t even know what happened._

Barba had an idea of what happened. Carisi had been publicly humiliated by someone he considered a mentor. When he was cornered, he’d lashed out. It wasn’t a complicated scenario to understand. Perhaps if he accepted the detective’s apology it would bring him some comfort.

> **[3:09 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _I forgive you Carisi._

> **[3:09 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _You mean it?_

Their conversation seemed to be going in circles.

> **[3:10 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _Yes._

> **[3:10 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _You’re not just saying that to be polite?_

> **[3:11 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _I don’t believe I’m known for being particularly polite._

> **[3:11 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Why do you answer yes or no questions with statements all the time?_
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _It’s kind of infuriating._

Now there was something Barba could work with! They were getting back to those gentle barbs that begged for witty retorts. While Barba was carefully crafting his answer, another message came in. 

> **[3:12 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I wish I could hear your voice._

Now that struck Barba as odd. It seemed completely out of place from the rest of their conversation. He was not sure how to respond to that. Did the detective think he was lying? Was this an attempt at a joke? Barba couldn't get a read on the situation, but felt he had to respond in some way. 

> **[3:12 AM]**
> 
> **_ADA Barba:_ ** _Yeah?_

> **[3:12 AM]**
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Yeah :(_

OK, so maybe the detective is not nearly as sober as Barba had presumed.

There had been no spelling mistakes in his text messages, but perhaps autocorrect had been helping him out? The detective had still been drinking when Barba left the bar. He’d seemed enthused by the notion of the pride flag stickers/ dance party- maybe Bianca and Carisi stayed until last call? Carisi had the following day off, and he had just admitted to having an overly open conversation with Liv because of medication in the past.

Barba had a choice to make- he could overanalyze the detective’s sentiment until sunrise, or he could give him what he wanted in the moment. Which inexplicably, was to hear Barba’s voice. Decision made.

* * *

**_[Outgoing Call 3:13 AM]_ **

_“Ciao!”_

Yup. Drunk.

**“Trying to end the call before it has started Carisi?”**

_“No? Why?”_

**“You just said good-bye to me.”**

_“I did not!”_

**“You said ciao.”**

_“Actually, ciao is a greeting for hello and goodbye.”_

**“I see.”**

_“It’s the Italian aloha.”_

**“Of course it is.”**

_“Does Spanish have one too?”_

**“I didn’t realize it was time for a language lesson”** Barba joked. He’d momentarily forgotten that they were on shaky ground with one another.

If there were crickets in the city, he would be hearing them now. He could hear Carisi breathing on the line, so he knew he hadn’t hung up on him.

**“Carisi?”**

_“I’m still here.”_

**“I would like to offer you a sincere apology-”**

_“Barba you don’t have to, I-”_

**“Please Carisi, you are owed a real apology. One that is nothing like my earlier attempts. If you are willing to hear it, I would really like to give it to you.”**

Giggling. GIGGLING? Why was Carisi giggling at that?

 _“You really want to give it to me-”_ he replied in a singsong tone.

It was official- Carisi was intoxicated. At least it seemed to have put him in better spirits. He supposed it was a blessing that the detective was a happy drunk rather than a morose brooder. 

Barba himself had mustered up enough courage to get through this next bit- if he could apologize now, perhaps he could move past this with a clear conscious.

**“Carisi you’d be my first heartfelt apology in a decade if you’d allow it.”**

The giggling stopped and he could hear Carisi clear his throat and take a deep breath. Barba could almost picture him squaring his shoulders, preparing to receive the message.

_“Ok.”_

**“I profoundly apologize for my reprehensible behaviour this past Sunday. There is no excuse for the way I treated you, or the way I acted afterward. I should not have disclosed any information I garnered about your personal life. The events you attend outside of work and the people you associate with, romantic or otherwise, are private and I should not have used them as talking points for office gossip.”**

It’s quiet at first, but then Barba thinks he hears Carisi take a deep breath in the background. Then a sniffle. Damnit this is not what he meant to do. He’d been giggling just a moment ago! Barba’s pulse raced instantly.

**“I’m so sorry Carisi I didn’t mean to upset you further. I should go-”**

_“No! Please don’t hang up!”_ Carisi begged.

 **“Ok! Ok Carisi I won’t hang up”** Barba soothed.

Barba cannot fathom why Carisi wanted him to remain on the line. Was the detective so emotionally distraught that he’d seek the company of anyone?

 **“Why did you want to hear my voice Carisi?”** Barba asked so quietly, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hear him.

_“I needed to know that you were ok. Really OK.”_

**“Why did you think I wasn’t OK?”**

_“I scared you.”_

**“You didn’t-”**

_“I did. At the bar.”_

And that kept Barba silent. He’d hoped he had kept his inner turmoil to himself earlier, but Carisi picked up on it. The detective exuded empathy at every opportunity.

_“I scared you and I could tell I was scaring you and I liked it. I liked it in the moment because I was mad at you. And that scared me. Because I’ve never felt that way before in my life, and I never want to feel that way again.”_

Barba could hear Carisi stop to take a deep breath and gather himself. His voice was still thick with emotion. Once he’d stopped the audible tremor, he continued.

_“I don’t want to be one of those toxic men who blows up at people, yells, says ugly things just because he is hurting. I don’t want to be one of the bad men.”_

Barba knew a thing or two about bad men. From the tone and inflection Carisi was using, so did he. And that’s what had him in such distress.

_“I was ashamed. I was so ashamed about breaking down right in front of you. I’m supposed to be strong, and I know it’s OK to have feelings and shit, but it took almost nothing for me to fall to pieces in your office and I couldn’t get that moment out of my head. I kept reliving it over and over and over again.”_

Barba hadn’t been able to erase that moment from his memory either. It was what had deprived him of sleep the past few nights and what contributed to his headaches and acid reflux. It would appear they were both suffering.

_“I was sitting there in your office, completely stuck. I could feel my eyes burning, my throat closing in, my heartbeat racing. I kept trying to slow it down, but it only made things worse and then I started feeling so nauseous and I needed to get out of there, and I didn’t know how. I could barely talk, one second, one more word and I’d be done for. It’s the closest I’ve felt to having a panic attack in front of another person in a long time.”_

**“I know what that is like. I hate that I contributed to you feeling that way.”**

They were both silent again. It stretched on for a few minutes, until Barba’s train of thought was interrupted by Carisi giggling. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Carisi would have an infectious laugh, but his giggle was quite funny. For someone with such a deep voice it was high pitched and juvenile. Barba was getting whiplash from the emotional highs and lows.

**“Something funny Carisi?”**

**_“_** _Nothing sorry counselor.”_ But his giggle turned into a full-bodied laugh.

 **“Your laughter would indicate that it is something”** Barba said, starting to chuckle at the sound of Carisi’s laughter alone.

 _“It’s just that you have a nose whistle”_ he explained, his laughter growing.

**“A nose whistle?”**

Barba was confused. Pleased that the heavy emotion had left the detectives voice. But still, very confused…

 ** _“_** _YOU KNOWWWW. That sound that your nose makes, when one nostril is more plugged than the other, so every time you breathe it makes, like this whistle sound. Come on you know what I’m talking about. You totally have one right now”_ he says, in near hysterics.

Barba was silent for a moment, evaluating the situation. Carisi had been so stern with him at the bar. He’d articulated his feelings perfectly and had given Barba the dressing down he deserved.

When Carisi woke up in the morning, or later today rather, he would see their text message conversation and know that he was the one who reached out to smooth things over with Barba. That he begged Barba for forgiveness. That he’d said he wished he could hear his voice. That wasn’t the memory Barba wanted him to have. Carisi deserved to have his moment of strength.

 **“Are you going to remember this tomorrow?”** Barba inquired gently.

 _“I can write it down!”_ Carisi said, full of his trademark enthusiasm.

**“Barring etching a transcript into stone tablets, will you recall this conversation?”**

Barba figured a religious reference would reign him in.

_“I just need to find my notebook…”_

It would appear not.

**“Carisi—”**

_“I think it’s in my school bag…”_

**“Carisi—”**

_“Why are zippers always so complicated?”_ he huffed, in an adorably frustrated tone. Suddenly Barba pictured him as a rosy cheeked child desperately trying to tie his shoelaces to no avail.

**“Carisi—”**

_“Seriously what does the world have against buttons?”_

Barba couldn’t help but laugh at that one. It had been a long time since he’d been on the receiving end of one of these phone calls. He was so grateful that this is the way his evening ended up. He’d never imagined it was possible while he was bawling in the shower.

**“I don’t know. I have a preference for buttons myself. They are the more artful form of fasteners.”**

_“That’s all I’m saying”_ he said sounding vindicated.

“ **Ok Carisi. No notebook. Stop for a moment.”** Barba tried in his most commanding voice. There was immediate silence on the other end of the line. It appeared it worked.

_“Ok.”_

**“Based on your current assessment of your level of inebriation, are you likely to recall our conversation?”**

Barba could hear a pause, followed by a deep breath in and slow exhalation out.

_“No.”_

**“Ok, can you do something for me?”**

_“Yes.”_

One-word answers. The detective must have realized the state he was in.

**“Delete our text message conversation.”**

_“What? Why?”_ Carisi whined sounding desolate.

**“Because when you are battling your hangover tomorrow you won’t want to relive this.”**

_“Did I do something bad?”_ he whimpered sounding disappointed in himself.

“ _I try so hard to be good.”_

Christ. Barba needed a moment to regroup after that.

**“No Carisi you didn’t do anything bad. It’s just that we are going to start fresh with a clean slate tomorrow, and it’s difficult to do that if we have a record.”**

“ _Ok. But then how will I remember we aren’t in a fight anymore?”_

**“I will text you that.”**

_“But then it will be gone?”_

Carisi sounded both confused and increasingly intoxicated. Maybe he’d had a few drinks before making the call and they were just hitting him now?

**“No, you delete the text chain now, and then I will send you a summation text.”**

_“A summation?”_

**“Yes, it will include all the pertinent points”** Barba reassured.

 _“According to who?”_ Carisi questioned. It was evident that he thought Barba would omit something.

**“According to you.”**

_“But you’re the one writing it.”_

**“Carisi—"**

_“Yes?”_

**“Can you trust me on this?”**

_“OK Barba. I trust you.”_

And Barba could tell he meant it. God, he sounded so vulnerable at that moment.

**“Good. Do it now, while I’m still on the phone with you.”**

_“That’s impossible.”_

**“Put me on speakerphone first, then give it a try.”**

_“Ok!”_

There was a long silence. Barba turned up the volume on his phone and listened closely. The only thing he could hear in the background were Carisi’s slow shallow breaths.

 **“Did you fall asleep Carisi?”** Barba asked in a gentle tone.

 _“No, it’s just hard to figure out how to do this with one eye open”_ he responded in a sleepy voice.

“ **And why aren’t both eyes open?”** Barba asked, his giant grin detectible in his voice. Drunk Carisi was pretty cute.

_“Because then there were two phones, and that was hard too.”_

Oh dear…

 _“Ok! It’s gone! No messages from you. Aww that’s sad”_ he said, sounding exactly that.

**“What’s sad Carisi?”**

_“That your name isn’t in my text history anymore”_ he responded in a sleepy murmur.

 **“And this saddens you why?”** Barba retorted in a playful tone.

_“I liked seeing it there.”_

OK, the detective was going downhill fast. They were losing time. Barba decided he’d better encourage the detective to call it a night.

**“Tell you what Carisi, why don’t you start getting ready for bed?”**

_“I’m confused.”_

**“Your evening routine Carisi. Brush your teeth, get into your pajamas and crawl into bed. That sort of thing.”**

_“But I’m already in bed.”_

**“Oh, alright-”**

“ _Do I have to wear pajamas?”_ Carisi asked, and then waited for an answer.

**“Pardon…”**

_“It’s just I don’t normally wear pajamas when it’s this hot out and I don’t know where they are. Should I go find them? I think I can dig through my dresser once the room stops spinning.”_

**“No no no don’t do that. Whatever you are wearing is fine. Just check to make sure you’ve locked the front door, use the washroom, and then bring a glass of water to your bedside table.”**

_“I feel like I should use a plastic cup instead of a glass.”_

**“That is probably wise.”**

Even in his drunken state Carisi was thinking of safety first. He needed some taking care of in this moment though.

**“Why don’t you leave the phone in the bedroom? Then you’ll have your hands free to take care of the other tasks.”**

_“My bedroom IS my entire apartment Barba.”_

**“OK, leave your phone on your bed, lock the front door, use the bathroom and bring a plastic cup of water to your bedside. I’ll wait on the line until you come back”** Barba offered. He’d sleep better knowing the detective was safely in bed.

_“Promise?”_

Gosh.

**“I promise you Carisi.”**

Barba could hear Carisi place the phone down and make his way through his apartment. It must be compact like he said, because he could hear the detective walking into things followed by “ow” or “shit”. He could hear what sounded like someone pulling on a door, presumably that meant he was checking the entrance door was locked. Next her heard a different squeaky door sound, likely the bathroom.

A few minutes later he heard what sounded like a crash, followed by an “oh no” and the sound of a refrigerator door opening and closing. A few more “ow's” and furniture bonks later he heard a rustling sound and then the heavy breathing of the detective.

**“Carisi?”**

“ _Ow! Why are you so loud?”_

“ **Are you holding your phone to your ear?”**

_“How else would I do it?”_

**“Turn off the speakerphone.”**

_“Wow how did you know that it was on!?!”_ Carisi asked him with incredulity.

**“Lucky guess. So, you locked your door and you’ve got some water yes? Are you all tucked in?”**

All tucked in? Where the fuck did that come from?

_“Door is locked. Water got complicated, but I had Gatorade in the refrigerator, so I grabbed that instead. Is that ok?_

He supposed the crash he heard earlier is what made water “get complicated”.

 **“That’s just fine Carisi. It’s better even”** he reassured him.

Barba heard the telltale sounds of settling into bed- pillows being fluffed, sheets rustling, and his body moving across the mattress springs.

 _“Ok all tucked in”_ Carisi said with a happy exhale. _“Forgot the light though.”_

**“You forgot to turn off the light?”**

_“No I forgot to turn on the little one. S’okay tho suns coming up now”_ he mumbled into his pillow.

Barba went silent for a moment, reflecting on the detective’s inadvertent admission.

_“Hey Barba?”_

**“I’m still here Carisi.”**

_“I have to go to sleep now”_ he whispered, sounding halfway there.

**“Goodnight detective.”**

_“Buonanotte.”_

**“What happened to ciao?”**

_“It’s overrated”_ he managed to get out before drifting off to sleep.

Barba chuckled at that. The detective would certainly be feeling the effects of the alcohol indulgence tomorrow. He waited until he could hear Carisi’s exhalations slow to a barely audible hum.

**“Sleep well Carisi.”**

And with that Barba ended the call. He felt an unexpected surge of emotion afterward. He was laughing, he was tearing up, he was definitely not making it to the office on time tomorrow! Or today rather.

He felt walloped by exhaustion, but he had made Carisi a promise. Barba plugged in his phone to charge it and began drafting the "summation text". If Carisi awoke mid-slumber, he would have something that to assure him everything was ok.


	6. Iris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. And the morning after that. Guess there is no sleep for the wicked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few dream sequences weaved into this chapter. I tried to make it clear where they occur.

_Rafael was laying in his bed wearing only boxers. The room was dark except for the streetlight that was pouring in from where his drapes didn’t meet. He thought about getting up to adjust them, but his body felt too heavy._

_Sonny came stumbling into the room wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy briefs- rainbow print. Nothing subtle about that. He was clutching a Gatorade bottle as if it were a lifeline. His eyes were reddened and a bit bleary, both from the emotion of the day and the alcohol. But once his eyes connected with Barba’s they lit up spectacularly. It was one of his favourite sights to see._

_Sonny’s face erupted into his trademark grin as flopped onto the bed and started crawling up towards the headboard. “Raffffiiiii! The door is locked. Water got complicated, but you had Gatorade in the refrigerator, so I grabbed that instead. Is that ooookkkkk?” he said as he struggled to get under the covers, his limbs loose and uncoordinated from the alcohol._

_“That’s just fine Sonny. It’s better even” Rafael said. He laid back against the pillows and opened his arms wide, inviting Sonny to come in closer. Sonny had managed to successfully get himself under the covers and he moved towards Rafael’s body. Rafael felt the mattress dip, followed by the heat and weight of half Sonny’s body weight laying on top of him._

_Sonny’s head was on his chest, his arm was splayed across his abdomen and one his legs was wrapped around Rafael’s. He wiggled about trying to get comfortable and exhaled happily once he’d found the perfect spot. Rafael could feel his eyelashes fluttering against his ribcage as Sonny looked up at him. It was a beautiful sight._

_“OK all tucked in! Forgot the light though.” Sonny started tracing shapes on Rafael’s stomach. A circle, a square, a parallelogram? Rafael nuzzled the top of Sonny’s head, breathing in deeply and feeling the thick strands beneath his lips as he placed a kiss there. “The light is off Sonny.”_

_“No, I forgot to bring the little one. You know for at night? S’okay tho suns coming up now” he mumbled into Rafael’s body, which was still acting as a human pillow. Sonny burrowed_ _his face_ _into Rafael’s abdomen, giving little love pecks as his stubble rubbed against him. Rafael had always been extra sensitive there. Perhaps his physical sensitivity made up for his emotional barriers._

_He was silent for a moment as he reflected on the detective’s inadvertent admission. Rafael wanted to give Sonny everything he needed in that moment. He stretched the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Sonny towards his nightstand. He unlocked his phone and turned on the flashlight app. He then grabbed a tissue and placed it over his phone. The crumpled tissue softened the bright light into an ambient glow. It wasn’t a sophisticated night light by any means, but it would do the trick in a pinch._

_“Is that better Sonny?” Rafael asked, rubbing his hand up and down the detective’s slight frame. He was shocked the detective let him touch him after the fight they’d had. He was confused as to how Sonny ended up in his bed, but it felt right. He looked down towards Sonny’s face. His eyes were half-closed, his lips looked kissed swollen, his cheeks still rosy from the alcohol, and his body was completely entwined with Rafael’s, yet fully relaxed. It was a wonderful thing to be trusted with something so precious._

_“It’s perfect Rafi thank-you.” Sonny’s voice was merely a whisper as he clung onto the last vestiges of consciousness as sleep and the drink took their hold. “I have to go to sleep now” he managed to get out as his body went lax, and the gentle tracing of shapes stopped._

_“Goodnight detective” Rafael whispered to him, pleased that Sonny would finally get some sleep. He’d had a difficult few days._

_Rafael combed his fingers through Sonny’s hair, and he could hear Sonny make a pleased little whimper in his sleep. The detective smelled like drugstore brand shampoo, cologne, cigarettes and beer. The combination did not sound appealing on its own, but it was olfactory proof of the night they’d had together. The laughs, the fight, the tears and the reunion._

_Rafael wrapped both arms around Sonny. Feeling the warmth coming off him, the soft puffs of breath with each exhale, the scratch of stubble, the surprising suppleness of his skin and the softness of the fine body hair on his masculine form. It wasn’t enough- he wanted more of him. He’d almost lost this. “I’m sorry Sonny. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry…. I’m sorrr…...”_

*******BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP******

* * *

Barba awoke up with a start, still clutching his phone in his hand. His alarm was going off at 6:30 AM reminding him that it was indeed a workday. He silenced it immediately and tried to get his bearings. He was confused- where was Carisi?

The other side of his bed didn’t look like it had been slept in. He looked towards his bedroom window- he’d pulled down the blackout shade and closed the drapes. No streetlight was pouring in. And there was no sports drink on his nightstand. It was dream, but it felt so real he still felt stuck in it.

He moved his empty hand over the bedding next to him- it was cool to the touch. He put his phone down, picked up the extra pillow and brought it to his face. It didn’t smell like Carisi. Did he actually just smell a pillow looking for proof? He really was losing it. His head was pounding, his heart was racing, and his mind was buffering. Everything felt fuzzy and uncertain.

He looked at his phone and then it hit him. He had fallen asleep after his 8th draft of the text message to Carisi. Carisi was in his own apartment, sleeping off his own hangover. One that was bound to be far worse than what Barba was experiencing. It was a dream. He was never there. His pillow would never smell like him…

Barba shook his head and turned his attention back to his phone. He reviewed the last draft of the text message. He had meant to send it to Carisi before sleep took him. Deciding it was better to honour his word than strive for perfection, he sent it through. Better late than never right?

> **_[6:32 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _I want to thank you again for taking my phone call. I genuinely appreciate that you gave me the opportunity to impart my heartfelt apologies. I must reiterate, that I deeply regret my actions and wish I could take back my hurtful words. The fact that you would even entertain communicating with me after my abhorrent behaviour is a testament to your character. While I accept your apology for the awkwardness at the bar, please know that it is not required. Never apologize for having a backbone. Your ability to convey the relevant facts and their impact are skills that any aspiring lawyer should hone. Honesty is a kindness, even when it doesn’t feel like one. Thank you for being honest with me._

His “summation text” was a bit of a novel- he had promised that all pertinent points would be included. Barba may have sanitized the nature of Carisi’s apology to him, but he believed the representation was accurate overall. He had meant what he wrote. Taking the emotion out of the scenario, he was impressed with Carisi for taking him to task when so few do.

Barba yawned and realized that his mouth was painfully dry. He must have been snoring during the night, mouth open and yep- there it is- drooling onto his pillow. He’d been single for too long, he thought to himself. He could smell the freshly brewed coffee in his kitchen. A testament to the value of programmable coffee makers.

Thankfully he didn’t have any court proceedings scheduled that day, so he'd called and left a voicemail on Carmen’s desk line advising he would not be in until 10:00 AM. His email inbox had piled up while he was at the ACLU event. This was likely the longest he had gone without responding to messages promptly. 

Barba sighed and painstakingly made his way into his "home office". That might be an exaggeration- it was an alcove off his living space. It had a desk with decorative shelving that also folded down into a murphy bed from one of those space age storage boutiques. It cost an obscene amount of money but had come in handy on that rare occasions he’d had overnight guests.

It felt critical to have a dedicated office space when he’d first been looking for a place, but two decades later it superfluous. He could access his email on his phone and he mostly worked from his laptop on the dining table. Today he was turning over a new leaf in more ways than one.

96 emails and a pot of coffee later (Barba valued speed in both areas), he was interrupted by his phone chime.

> **_[7:36 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I appreciate the note counselor, I couldn’t make heads or tails of how a butt dial would translate in a call lasting over an hour._

Barba had not expected to hear from the detective today, especially not this early in the morning. Carisi had been in rough shape by the end of the night and Barba assumed the detective would have succumb to exhaustion. Carisi had used the term “butt dial”, which meant he’d awoken sometime before he received his "summation text". Which meant that he had reviewed his call history, noticed the length of their conversation, and concluded that the only reason Barba would have called him was by mistake. Barba wondered why it took Carisi an hour to respond to his message if he had already been awake?

> **_[7:37 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _My posterior was not the culprit this time detective. I will admit I’m surprised you are awake at this hour._

Barba hoped that might open the door for a “morning after” conversation. While he hadn’t expected to hear from the detective, he kind of hoped he would…

> **_[7:38 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Nature called. Demanded really._

Well that made sense, it should have been obvious. That was likely what kept Carisi occupied the last hour. Barba winced at the thought of it, not feeling 100% himself. Hangovers in middle-adulthood were ghastly. He felt sorry for the detective.

> **_[7:39 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _Yes, well, the natural consequences of alcohol consumption can be almighty._

Perhaps he’s not the right person to wax poetic about natural consequences. He was cursing himself for yet another potential blunder when the next text came through.

> **_[7:40 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I was certainly praying to the almighty. And a couple of the saints as well._

Barba chuckled at that. He sounded like the old Carisi- self-deprecating humour and Catholicism rolled into one. He enjoyed verbal sparring with the detective via text. It was not his usual medium of communication but he was beginning to see its appeal. This was kind of fun.

> **_[7:43 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _This is embarrassing but the end of my night is a bit fuzzy. Did I happen to mention anything about someone breaking into my apartment or something?_

Now that was concerning. Carisi hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort! He'd be inebriated during the call, but if Carisi was living in a small studio apartment, he’d have likely noticed something was amiss before the morning- alcohol consumption notwithstanding. Barba had instructed him to check his front door was locked before he went to sleep. Hopefully this hadn’t resulted in the drunk detective unlocking it by mistake.

> **_[7:44AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _You did not make mention of a potential intruder. Are items missing?_

> **_[7:44 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_** _I don’t think so but my kitchen looks ransacked._

Barba recalled the end of their phone conversation and smiled to himself- “water got complicated”. He would guess that the state of Carisi’s kitchen was a direct result of that “complication”. He was curious to know how much of the night Carisi could remember. Drunk Carisi seemed certain he’d forget everything, but there was no way to know for certain.

> **_[7:45 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _You alluded to encountering a struggle in obtaining a glass of water. Perhaps it was the result of that?_

That was the gentlest way he could put it. Hopefully Carisi would fill in the blanks himself.

> **_[7:45 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Carisi:_ ** _I guess that makes sense…_

Barba was not fond of text messages that ended in ellipses. The social protocol for responding to them was unclear, especially with the younger generation. Barba suddenly wished they were having this conversation in person, although he was glad the detective had the day. Preferably over coffee in his office. He feels confident when he is there. Still, he was glad the detective had the day off. He would certainly need the recovery time!

> **_[7:46 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _Was there another reason you believed an intruder may have been in your apartment?_

> **_[7:46 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Carisi:_ ** _It’s just that a kitchen chair was placed in front of my cabinet. Like someone was trying to get to a top shelf or something._

Barba didn’t understand why that would be a mystery? It was a common practice when one needed to get an item off a taller shelf.

> **_[7:47 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _And that is not something you would usually do?_

> **_[7:47 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Carisi:_ ** _If I raise my arm I can touch the ceiling with my fingertips._

We should all be so lucky, Barba thought to himself. He began to feel nervous while texting with the detective. He was sober, as was Carisi presumably, but in the light of day things still felt unsettled. They’d had it out, they’d apologized to each other and they’d both shed tears over this. Now what? He wanted to continue talking with him to get a sense of where they stood, but it was not part of their repertoire pre-showdown. He wasn’t sure how to instigate it now.

> _**[7:50 AM]**_
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _Is there anything you need doing while you are indisposed? I could arrange for provisions to be brought to you. I’m not due at the office until 10:00 AM today._

That’s a gesture of good will, right? He was trying. Barba could stop by Carisi's apartment, check that he was all right. Perhaps solve the mystery of the kitchen chair. Wait? Where was this coming from? And what was taking Carisi so long to respond- it had been ages! Or, okay it had only been 8 minutes but still…

> **_[7:58 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Carisi:_ ** _That’s kind of you to offer counselor but I got it covered. I’ll see you at work next week._

His response should have been expected but it left Barba feeling low. He could understand Carisi's reluctance to take him up on his offer. Barba wasn’t known for bringing people chicken soup when they were ill- that was more Carisi’s forte. Still, something about the abrupt end to the conversation stung. It was as if Carisi had suddenly realized who he was talking to and was erecting boundaries. Which was entirely fair and would have been preferable before this dramatic saga occurred. But right now, it just hurt.

In the grand scheme of things this was good. They’d both made mistakes, they’d had it out, and they’d just had the “morning after” debrief, so to speak. Carisi seemed determined to get back to acting collegial. It was time for Barba to focus on something else.

Anything else would do.

* * *

A shower, a novelty espresso and a croissant from the indie café down the block had Barba feeling more like himself. He’d dressed in a lightweight chambray suit, with tan loafers, a white oxford shirt and a colourful paisley tie. He figured he may as well get in the spirit of things for pride month, despite the fact it was nearly over. 

Barba immersed himself in his work and didn’t come up for air for hours. The only reason he had left his office at all was to use the washroom. When he returned he found a takeout bag on his desk. He looked towards Carmen and she held up one finger at him, indicating he should wait a minute.

She entered his office and handed him an eye mask- one of those gel ones that people keep in the freezer to mask the bags under their eyes. People- not him- that’s absurd. He supposed his lack of a good night’s sleep had caught up with him. Especially if Carmen was willing to take the bold and extraordinary measure of pointing it out and acquiring a means of addressing it. 

**“Where did you acquire this midday?”**

“That’s privileged information Mr. Barba. I’ll hold any calls or visitors for the next 10 minutes. You put that on. And while you are at it, eat what your friend dropped off for you.”

Barba took the mask and laid down on his sofa. He set a 10-minute timer on his phone and then played one of favourite podcasts. If he laid in silence, there was no chance he’d avoid falling asleep. Carmen was a godsend- the chilled eye mask did wonders. He got up from the sofa and went over to his desk. He noticed the takeout bag had a note attached.

> _I wasn’t sure if your family emergency required comfort food or if it had escalated to floral arrangements. Consider giving me a call to advise. - Rita_

Barba laughed at that. The origin of the chilled eye mask became clear. Rita might seem full of piss and vinegar, but she had a hidden sweet side. This was how she expressed her concern- by taking time out of her day off to bring him food and an eye mask. The former to placate his feelings and the latter to appease his vanity. These were the moments that reminded Barba of why they kept each other around. Friendship- it’s weird sometimes.

He called her and left a voicemail message advising last night’s situation (he didn’t want to outright lie), had not become a “floral arrangement level crisis”. He thanked her for the eye mask and the meal and promised to get together for lunch the next day. As soon as he hung up his desk phone it started ringing again. That time it was Russell checking in. He was less obvious about it of course, but the sentiment was the same. The call ended with assurances they would attend another event together soon- possibly over the weekend.

Barba tried to get back to work and then recalled his dinner plans with his mother. He really owed her one for the phone call that saved his hide yesterday. He’d have to make time to stop and get her favourite flowers on his way over. And wine- god knows they’d need it.

* * *

Barba took the long route to his mother’s apartment. She’d moved after his father died, but it was only two buildings over. She was attached to her surroundings and found her sense of community and comfort from them. It was something that Barba could understand- he felt the same way in the courtroom. He had more attachment to his office than his apartment, although if he was being honest with himself that demonstrated his lack of a personal life, more than his professional commitment.

He’d stopped by his apartment to pick up two bottles of wine- a Tempranillo and an Albariño. Either would pair well with any Cuban dish she might serve. He was hoping for a classic, but she’d been experimenting with new cuisines lately. Barba had a feeling she was either seeing someone new or had hit a saturation point with her usual hobbies. He could get onboard with the bulgogi nachos, and the butter chicken pierogis, but he drew the line at tzatziki ramen. That was unpleasant.

The thought that his mother might be seeing someone new made him happy. She had been officially single for 15 years and alone for much longer. Barba did what he could, but he was constantly busy with work. And when he wasn’t, he still had trouble being as available as she’d like. Their relationship was complicated, like all his relationships were.

He hoped if she was seeing someone new, they would be a better class of man than her deceased husband. Olivia and Nick had run a seminar on healthy relationships and consent at her charter school. Hopefully some of the information had sunk in for the teachers and administrators, as well as the students.

Barba paid a visit to the same bodega he’d patronized since childhood. It was like going back in time- the door chime, the scent of incense, the hum of the refrigeration unit, none of it ever changed. Even the staff remained the same. It had been family owned and operated since 1959 and three generations of the same family worked there now. Marcella was still his favourite.

 _‘That can’t be Rafi can it? Am I so old that my eyes deceive me”_ she teased, as she walked towards him, enveloping him in an embrace.

 **“Your eyes work fine Marcella. It is good to see you”** he said, hugging her back. Barba’s isn't a "hugger" but they’d done this since he was 3 ft tall and he wasn’t about to change it now. “ **I’m here to buy some flowers for Mami”** he explained.

 _“Such a good son! Irises are her favourite still? The purple ones?_ ” she clarified.

 **“I see your memory is in working order too”** he teased back. She gave a full-bellied laugh and rang up his purchase. They caught up for a while longer and then he was on his way to his mothers, a bouquet in one hand and wine in the other.

* * *

His mother greeted him with equal parts love and suspicion. She was astute enough to recognize that something major had to have happened for Barba to agree to a weeknight dinner with a days’ notice. He had never spoke about the impact of his work on his emotions before, but he had last night. When he had arrived with wine and flowers, it just added to her concern. When she moved towards him to offer a hug he’d held her embrace longer than usual. Something didn’t add up. A mother just knows.

_“Rafi, are you sick?”_

**“No Mami.”**

_“You can tell me. I’d rather know now than wait until the priests are called in.”_

**“No one is calling priests on my behalf. I’m perfectly healthy.”**

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a patented Barba smirk. He’d learned from the best.

 **“I’m no worse for wear than I was the last time we had dinner.”** It was a lie- he was exhausted and had been feeling unsure of himself. But still, no physiologic illness that he was aware of.

 _“You look older.”_ She said, giving his face a thorough once over. Tact and diplomacy- not a trait that either of the Barba’s were known for.

**“I am older every day that I wake up on this side of the grass.”**

_“I don’t see grass anywhere, do you? What’s going on?”_ She said gesturing to their surroundings. She was like a dog with a bone. There was no dodging this conversation.

 **“Well, it’s like I said. There have been some tough cases lately. I’ve had a harder time letting them go.”** He hoped that would be enough to pacify her. He knew that she was as uncomfortable with outward displays of emotion as he was. In the workplace it was acceptable- the victims require his empathy and his compassionate tones. But in his personal life, with his family, it felt unbearable. 

_“And?”_ She said plainly, clearly expecting more information than what he had given.

Barba was torn. He wished he could ask her, or anyone really, for advice. He knew from experience that discussing anything queer made his mother uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened without sexuality colouring it and impacting her advice. 

**“Mami let’s eat. We can delve into the recesses of my psyche once we finish the first bottle of wine.”**

She grabbed his chin with a strong hand and forced him to look her in the eye. He may be a man, but something about being around his mother made him feel like a little boy. It was like she could see right through him and knew what he was thinking.

They held the eye contact for longer than he’d like, when something made her expression soften. She gave him a look he hadn’t seen in a long time. One he had never received without sporting an injury- usually at the hands of his father. She moved the hand to cup his face and she thumbed affectionally on the apple of his cheek.

_“OK Rafi. We’ll share a meal and then we’ll talk.”_

* * *

Barba felt a sense of calm overtake him when he entered his apartment. He’d had a wonderful evening with his mother and felt a warmth within him that could not be solely attributed to the wine. She’d made one of his favourite childhood dishes, put on an old record that he’d always liked and distracted him with witty conversation until he relaxed. It was everything he didn’t know he needed.

He started his evening routine and dressed for bed, pulling on the same lilac pajama pants that had comforted him the night before. While he was feeling a bit better about what had happened, there was something about that dream that left him flustered. Perhaps it was the remnants of guilt about hurting Carisi?

Barba still felt terrible about outing him. He began to analyze the facts that were available to him before Carisi confirmed his sexuality. Carisi had attended Pride events, specifically events that weren't as widely publicized. He did not acknowledge or interact with Barba at the events. This was unusual as he typically sought Barba out at every opportunity at work. Carisi had never brought up seeing him after the events.

He reflected on the "reasons" he thought Carisi was straight. He was an awkward dresser, his personal grooming choices were unrefined (that mustache…), he was religious, his voice was deep and raspy at times, and he appeared to be interested in women.

Ok. So, Barba was an asshole. That wasn’t news to him. But his ignorance was and he’d have to rectify that. He pulled up urban dictionary to look up a few things he’d overheard Carisi and Bianca say that he didn’t fully understand. Consider him informed now…

Barba then spent an hour googling “queer”. 6 YouTube videos later he was still confused about all the new terminology, identity labels and stereotypes associated with them. If the internet was to be believed, Carisi was supposed to be constantly giving others the thumbs up, unable to sit in a chair properly and should favour lemon bars??? It was clear as mud. 

His internet rabbit hole wasn’t entirely fruitful, but he felt better for having made an attempt. Re-educating himself would be a marathon, not a sprint. One thing was for sure- the way he’d left things with Carisi was not sufficient. Carisi had let him off too easily. Drunk or not, Carisi was in distress during their phone call. He was lucky that a “nose whistle” had saved the day.

He’d like to make Carisi smile about something other than a partially blocked nasal passage. That wouldn’t be possible without making a more concerted effort to make amends. If Carisi could do it, he could too. It was probably a bad idea, but he sent through a late-night text message regardless.

> **_[12:04 AM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _I would like to make amends with you Carisi. You are a sharp detective, have a curious mind and are an asset to any trivia team. I enjoyed your company, and I hope we can reach a place where we can comfortably co-exist. I will do whatever I can in my power to help achieve this. If you’d prefer to keep a professional distance, know that I understand and will maintain your privacy. Take care._

It was as close to an act of contrition as he could manage.

* * *

_“OK all tucked in! Forgot the light though.” Sonny started tracing shapes on Rafael’s stomach. A circle, a square, a parallelogram? Rafael nuzzled the top of Sonny’s head, breathing in deeply and feeling the thick strands beneath his lips as he placed a kiss there. “The light is off Sonny.”_

_“No, I forgot to bring the little one. You know for at night? S’okay tho suns coming up now” he mumbled into Rafael’s body, which was still acting as a human pillow. Sonny burrowed_ _his face_ _into Rafael’s abdomen, giving little love pecks as his stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin._

_Rafael started tracing letters across Sonny’s back. Sonny laughed at the sensation. “That tickles Rafi” he said with a giggle. Drunk Sonny was pretty cute. “Do you want me to stop Sonny?” he asked as his hand stilled, waiting for an answer._

_“Never it feels so good. Just makes me squirm a little but I like it. What are you spelling anyways?” he asked. He resumed the love pecks to Rafael’s abdomen, his pace slowing and the amount of time his lips stayed pressed to the skin began lengthening. They were pillow soft and unlike any other set that had been there before._

_Rafael kissed the top of his head again and breathed in deeply. “Just get some sleep sweets ok? Close your eyes, I’ll still be here in the morning.” He continued tracing the words against Sonny’s back. I-M-S-O-R-R-Y._

_“Promise?” Gosh. What had he done to this beautiful soul? “I promise you. You can trust me. I’m sorry sweets. I’m sorry. I’m sorrrr…..”_

*****BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*****

* * *

Carisi had not responded to his text message, which was fine. It was totally fine. Except it absolutely was not!

Granted the message did not end with a question and was worded in a way that gave Carisi the option to respond or not. But still. If he was being honest with himself, Barba had hoped that he’d get an overly enthusiastic response within the hour. At least, that is what happened in his dream…

Time to start the day.

* * *

Friday was busier than Barba had anticipated. He’d had emergency court proceedings all morning and was hoping to get some casework done over his lunch hour. That wasn’t going to happen today as he’d promised to meet Rita for lunch when he called to thank her for the comfort items. It was a kindness he would not soon forget. If that meant he’d have to spend his Friday night immersed in casework than so be it. He wouldn’t cancel on her now.

Rita was already seated at the table when he arrived at the restaurant. She looked well rested, was sporting her best business casual attire, and greeted him with a Cheshire cat grin. Barba’s nerves began to kick in. She’d accepted his sudden departure from the dinner earlier in the week without too much prodding. He had a feeling she would not show the same restraint today. He was proven correct just after they’d placed their drink orders.

_“So Rafael, what was the cause of your dust up with Bambi on Wednesday?”_

He had not given Rita enough credit. Once she’d realized that the family emergency wasn’t dire, she’d sussed out the true nature of his distress. Not that she could prove it…

**“What are you talking about Rita?”**

_“I know something happened between the two of you. It was the first time I’ve seen the choir boy look anything less than enamored with you.”_

**“He doesn’t look enamored with me.”**

_“Feigning ignorance doesn’t work with me. The man gives you googly eyes.”_

**“That isn’t true.”**

_“It is true, he looks at you like you hung the moon.”_

**“He’s a Catholic Rita, I’m sure he has a firm set of ideas about the origin of the solar system.”**

_“You know the more you deflect, the juicer I think this must be. Spill. Or should I ask him myself?”_

**“Please don’t bother the detective Rita. You don’t want to be accused of creating a hostile work environment.”**

_“The only hostility I picked up on was coming from his direction. And his companion. With the looks she was giving you I’m surprised you didn’t spontaneously combust. What did you do?”_

“ **There is no grand story here.”**

_“There must be something. When I asked you about Bianca on Wednesday, you said you did not want to “repeat the mistake." So, what was the mistake? Polyamorous triad gone bad?”_

“ **You could not possibly be farther from the truth. And what is a triad?”**

_“Kind of like a throuple.”_

“ **Do you really believe that I am both willing and capable of being in a loving supportive relationship with TWO people?”**

_“Stranger things have happened. You’ve dated more than one person at a time before.”_

“ **Well… that’s not always the case. There is nothing going on between Detective Carisi and I. And ABOSLUTELY nothing going on between myself and Bianca. I didn’t date twenty somethings when I was a twenty something.”**

_“That’s not entirely true either…”_

**“I said date, not screw.”**

_“Clarification accepted.”_

**“Shall we move on?”** Barba tried. He was ready for a new topic of conversation.

 _“Of course.”_ Rita obliged.

At that moment their drinks arrived at the table. Barba had ordered an iced coffee and Rita had ordered sangria- she was on vacation after all. She took a sip of her drink and looked up at Barba with a curious smile.

_“How long has it been Rafael?”_

**“Since what?”**

_“Since you’ve dated or screwed?”_

**“Long enough, as you well know.”**

_“Do you forget how to do it now? Are you reaching a point of re-virginizing? Is that a thing with your equipment?”_

**“Let’s skip any discussion of my equipment. You may be on vacation, but this is the middle of my workday.”**

_“Time to dust if off and move it to the front of the shelf.”_

**“I’ve lost sight of your metaphor Rita. How about we share the dip trio?”** He detested dips and all shared condiments but knew anything with asiago in it would draw her attention away from him.

_“Bet you’d like to take a dip.”_

**“I’m not above leaving this restaurant. What’s gotten into you lately? Are you re-living your spring break days?”**

_“This is just further proof that you never went on spring break.”_

**“Never claimed to.”**

_“I’m frustrated.”_

**“I recommend a good vibrator.”**

_“Ha-ha very cleaver.”_ She took another sip of her drink and glanced at her cell phone. A text message had just come through. It was enough of a distraction to cause her to redirect the conversation her way.

_“I’m interested in Russell, but I can’t get a read on him.”_

Perfect. This was more Barba’s speed.

**“Read how?”**

_“Well he’s “co-parenting” with his ex-wife in Queens.”_

**“Why does co-parenting have air quotes Rita?”**

_“Not a fan of the term. You have a child under your care, that’s all I need to know. Co, single, or group, that fact remains the same. I don’t need the origin story- not interested.”_

**“That’s one way to look at it I suppose.”**

_“I can’t take care of a houseplant, so I guess my opinion on the matter is moot. ANYWAYS, he’s co-parenting with an ex-wife in Queens, of all places, but he’s been attending nearly ever pride month event-”_

**“As have you-”**

_“Yes, but with you-”_

**“Your point being?”**

_“What if the reason they got divorced was because he had some sort of sexual reawakening?”_

**“Rita-”**

_“I’m not ignorant Rafael. I know there can be fluidity, I’ve gone to enough of these things with you over the years. I’ve dabbled.”_

Yes, he thinks to himself, if that six-month stint with Sandra in the Brooklyn walk-up, complete with a U-Haul and a shared cat was “dabbling” …

_“But what if this revelation was new for him, and he just needs some time to spread his seed around a bit?”_

**“You’re really committed to making this meal as unappetizing as possible aren’t you?”**

_“Rafael!”_

**“OK, OK Rita. What do you need from me? What can I do here?”**

_“Without breaking any confidences, are you aware of any public information that can confirm or deny my hypothesis?”_

This is not a fishing expedition Barba was about to participate in. If he had learned ANYTHING in the last week it’s that disclosure, overt or accidental, was serious business. He’d known it before, but it was seared into his memory now.

**“No. I don’t know anything about his current romantic inclinations and there are no public scandals to speak of.”**

_“Guess I’ll have to take the wait and see approach.”_

**“Or ask him directly?”**

_“No chance. If he’s not interested romantically, I’d still like us to remain friendly like we have been. He’s an absolute riot after a few drinks. There is nothing quite like the newly single with a child-free evening. They go all in.”_

**“That is a fact”** Barba agreed. A little freedom from monogamy and child-rearing responsibilities can make for more eventful nights out.

 _“So.”_ Rita pivoted, _“I think we landed on the dips?”_

Guess they had.

* * *

After his lunch with Rita, Barba stopped by the station to check on their psychiatric hold case. There was no new information or suspects. He still felt like Fin was acting oddly, but maybe this was always the case?

Barba looked towards Carisi’s empty desk. If it wasn’t for the Fordham Law stress ball in the corner of it, he’d presume it was vacant. He’d seen that desk empty a lot lately. He didn’t like that, not one bit. Barba must be getting sentimental, because he found himself looking forward to seeing that desk chair filled again. 

* * *

_Sonny’s head was on his chest, his arm was splayed across his abdomen and one his legs was wrapped around Rafael's. He was wiggling about trying to get comfortable and exhaled happily once he’d found the perfect spot. Rafael could feel his eyelashes fluttering against his ribcage as Sonny looked up at him. It was a beautiful sight._

_“OK all tucked in! Forgot the light though.” Sonny started tracing shapes on Rafael’s stomach. A circle, a square, a parallelogram? Rafael nuzzled the top of Sonny’s head, breathing in deeply and feeling the thick strands beneath his lips as he placed a kiss there. “It’s alright Sonny, I’ll keep you safe” he promised, squeezing him tightly. “I’m sorry you were afraid, but you don’t have to be anymore. I will make it right. I promise you OK Sonny? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me…...”_

*******BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP******

Guess there is no rest for the wicked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick google search gave me the information about wine pairings for Cuban food- I know nothing about wine. I'm more a beer or spirits person. The last bottle of wine I purchased was entirely for the pun factor of the name.
> 
> This chapter has a heavy use of metaphor, religious references and colloquial phrases. I've included some information below. 
> 
> Dust it off and put it to the front of the shelf: The retail practice of cleaning products that were out of reach and forgotten at the back of the shelves, so they can be brought to the front and purchased. In this context Rita is telling Rafael to prepare himself to be with someone else after a long period of abstinence. 
> 
> Floral arrangement level crisis: This refers to the common practice of sending floral arrangements when someone has died. 
> 
> Full of piss and vinegar: To be boisterous, rowdy, and enthusiastic. In origin it wasn’t negative, but it's colloquial use where I live means the person is aggressive and lacking empathy. 
> 
> Wait until the priests are called in: Refers to the Catholic sacrament called “anointing of the sick”, where a priest is called in to deliver last rights when a person is on their deathbed. 
> 
> Wake up on this side of the grass: You are still alive and well. Waking up on the wrong side of the grass refers to being deceased and buried. 
> 
> Urban Dictionary: It is an online resource that provides definitions for slang, colloquial words or phrases that you would not usually find in a standard dictionary. This is where I first learned the phrase “tossing a salad” was not a reference to the culinary practice of preparing a meal 😂. 
> 
> Clear as mud: Murky, difficult to understand, no closer to the truth. 
> 
> References to queer stereotypes: In the world of internet memes there are countless references to queer folks (basically anyone non-monosexual) being easily identified because they cannot sit in a chair properly, they use hand gestures such as finger guns, thumbs up, OK symbol, with regularity and that they tend to favour lemon bars. 
> 
> Act of Contrition: A sign of repentance, in the catholic church there is a prayer known as the act of contrition used in mass or individually to express regret for sins. 
> 
> Googly eyes: A facial expression that someone gives another when they adore them, usually open staring with big eyes. 
> 
> Looking at someone like they hung the moon: Looking at someone with amazement, as if they are capable of anything. 
> 
> Triad/Throuple: In this context Rita is referring to a romantic and/or sexual relationship between three people. 
> 
> Re-virginizing: It’s a crass way of saying that someone has abstained from sexual activity (on purpose or by circumstance) for such a long period of time that it is as if they are a virgin again. 
> 
> Spread his seed: Refers to having sexual relations with multiple/many sexual partners.


	7. Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise blind dates, revelations, pitchers of sangria, peer pressure karaoke and an overactive imagination. Saturday night done right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the tags to acknowledge this fic includes references to alcohol consumption and implied drug use. 
> 
> This chapter has a lot of references to song lyrics and feelings. It was supposed to be a small part of the story but as I got typing it took on a life of it's own. I went down a complete rabbit hole of all my “feelings” songs while writing this chapter. Each time I tried to edit this draft the songs I used changed.
> 
> Key lyrics are written into the fic it's not essential that you know the songs before reading, however I recommend listening to Beautiful by Thornley and Hurt by Johnny Cash. 
> 
> Writing this chapter reminded me of how much I missed Pride this year (ours is usually in June) and queer spaces in general. Solidarity with those who are feeling the same way!

**“I cannot believe you talked me into this Rita.”**

Barba had just finished up for the day and was looking forward to beginning his weekend. He had a bottle of red wine, a pile of documentaries on DVD, and a plan to order in his favourite guilty pleasure- pizza. The greasy kind- it was Saturday night after all. This was before Rita had strong-armed him into a night out.

_“You need to get out more Rafael. This is me helping you achieve that aim.”_

**“I get out plenty Rita. This is our third outing this week alone.”**

_“You need to get out more with people OTHER THAN ME.”_

**“I’ve already done that twice this week.”**

_‘OK.OK. Fine. You caught me. Rafael you need to get laid. This night is a setup. You are being setup and doubling with Russell and I. The men will join us in two hours, after we’ve finished our meal. You’re welcome.”_

**“I most certainly am not. Enjoy your evening Rita. I have a date with my DVD player.”**

“If you’re idea of a date is time alone with your DVD player than you are in worse shape than I thought.”

**“You know that’s not what I-”**

“ _Rafael, can you please just play ball here. Figuratively, perhaps literally if it goes according to plan.”_

**“It appears there is no end to the harassment I must submit to from you.”**

_“If I had known you wanted to be the submissive, I might have invited a different man.”_

Barba dissolved into laughter at that one. This was not a conversation he pictured having in his forties. There is something about being single in the summer months that brings out the bold in people. It was as if Rita had gone back in time to their Harvard days of playing matchmaker. He will admit that she did have a knack for it- at least for choosing suitable partners for casual dating. Casual being the operative word.

**“Out of curiosity, how did you wrangle this potential suitor on such short notice?”**

_“I met him at the piano bar I went to with Russell yesterday. He’s just what you need.”_

**“Charming. I’m going to need more.”**

_“He’s here on secondment from a Boston firm. He's been in NYC for two months already and has one more to go. He loves music, theatre and cats- he brought a rescue kitten with him and it’s been slowly destroying his hotel suite.”_

**“So a gay lawyer with cliché interests and a cat is just what I need?”**

_“You share those interests Rafael. Besides he’s handsome, bubbly and prefers suspenders.”_

“ **Now you’re just making things up.”**

_“I’m not, he was wearing ripped jeans, a Henley shirt and suspenders.”_

**“Ripped jeans with suspenders!?! What footwear did he pair with that? Flip-flops?”**

_“I think suede boots.”_

**“Well that’s horrifying. It’s June.”**

_“I didn’t pay attention to the exact shoe, but I did notice he had rather large feet.”_

**“That isn’t something I care about, you know this. How young is this lawyer exactly?”**

_“No younger than choir boy.”_

**“I don’t know about this Rita, I’m likely too old for him. An attractive young lawyer from out of town can find any number of men his own age in New York City. I’m not interested in dating someone who still uses training wheels.”**

_“Stop it! He’s hot, he’s personable and he’s in town for a month. Give the guy a chance! Besides he’s in environmental law and the dress code is different. The two of you can start a little club for suspender enthusiasts.”_

**“Oh can we now?”**

_“Don’t worry, you get to be club president. You had the suspender market cornered first.”_

**“Ugh, pick a new term, I don’t much like that moniker these days.”**

_“So noted.”_

Barba does not like to be ambushed. He thought he was past the “surprise blind date” phase of life. He’d outgrown the need to have a partner to bring to functions. At a certain point in your life, people just accept you as a bachelor and stop asking when you will settle down. He likes that. He’d earned it.

But he would admit to occasionally missing the easy companionship and regular sex that comes with pairing up. Perhaps a little summer fling with a younger, albeit hippie-like, lawyer on secondment would be just the ticket. Especially one who was smart, handsome and had a penchant for taking in strays. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

**“Fine. I’ll play ball.”**

_“I bet you will.”_

* * *

Rita had managed to sweet talk the hostess into seating them at one of the prized tables on the balcony level of the bar. The restaurant and event space were in an old converted church. The balcony level was where the choir used to be, complete with the original pipe organ. It was purely ornamental at this point but it added to the atmosphere.

There was a stage towards the front of the converted church where performances took place. Thankfully the crucifix had been removed, but the stained-glass windows and dark woodwork remained. The old pews lined the perimeter of the bar and the confessional booths remained intact and were free to access. Barba was sure they saw their fair share of sinning as the bar nights progressed.

The venue had setup additional tables and chairs, to expand the seating beyond the barstools and the balcony. Tonight’s event was Showtunes Karaoke. Performers from across the city (theatre stars, musicians, drag performers, etc.) and civilians alike would participate. It was an annual event and this year it happened to fall during pride month, which amplified the energy in the room.

Scoring a table on the balcony level meant that they could enjoy their food and drinks, have a perfect view of the stage AND a perfect view of the bar below. Which was ideal for people watching. They’d also be somewhat protected from the noise (the speakers were towards the front of the venue on the main floor), which allowed for actual conversation to occur. He had to hand it to Rita- she did know how to set the scene for a fun night.

_“So”_ Rita started _“I saw your shadow at the pride parade yesterday.”_

**“That’s not until Sunday”** Barba corrected her.

_“Not that one, the Trans March. You’re behind the times Rafael.”_

He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but he was already uncomfortable. What was his face doing? Was his expression giving any information away? If he acted like it was to be expected Carisi would attend a Trans March, was it confirming something about his sexuality? If he was adamantly denying it, would that be protesting too much? Was there ever a time when his life wasn’t this complicated?

**“How can you be certain? There’d be thousands of people there. All cops look the same in uniform.”**

_“He was not in uniform. Quite the opposite. Choir boy was marching with an activist group called the Rainbow Railroad. It was definitively him no question. He was all leg with a side of dimples. And when made eye contact, he blushed a delicious scarlet, from his hairline down his entire chest.”_

**“Oh really? And how do you know that?”**

_“He was wearing a V-neck. A deep one. I’d love to know where the blush stopped. If it stopped. His legs weren’t bad either. Much more defined and harrier than I’d expected from a blonde but I guess it’s the Italian in him. He looked every part the bisexual man in those short shorts and that V-neck. Any team would be happy to have him playing for them.”_

**“Thank you for that oh so colourful commentary. But you know what they say about assumptions….”**

_“Rafael, I know he’s bisexual.”_

Wait…. What?

**“Based on what?”**

_“Based on the flag sticker he was so ecstatic about wearing that night at HOPS. He and Bianca had a whole debate about bisexual vs. pansexual vs. a few other things I hadn’t heard of before.”_

Barba was insatiably curious but knew that he couldn’t act too interested. If he did Rita would take it to the extreme and start making assumptions about his interest in Carisi. Which was purely platonic, obviously…

**“How did bisexual win out, out of curiosity?”**

_“Apparently, he’s open to multiple genders, and how each person expresses their gender is part of what turns his crank. She chose pansexual because she said that gender expression didn’t play a role in her attraction. I think. I had trouble following, between the Staten Island accent and the fact they were three sheets to the wind. Anyhow they both agreed that any label was valid as long it was authentic to the person. It was all very kumbaya.”_

**“I see…”**

_“To be completely honest I think he just chose the colour combination he liked best. He said purple, pink and blue suited him, but he looked awful in yellow.”_

**“I can’t believe he said all that in front of you both.”**

Carisi had been so upset with Barba for accidentally exposing his sexuality, he cannot believe he’d been so forward with Rita and Russell present. Did he really trust Rita Calhoun more than Detective Rollins

_“I don’t think he meant to. Russell had run into a friend at the bar and I had just come back from the ladies’ room. To be honest at the rate they were downing their drinks I very much doubt they realized I was there.”_

Rafael thought back to his telephone conversation with Carisi that night. He would wager that the detective was drunk enough to miss Rita returning to the table. Especially if the totality of his attention was being paid to Bianca. Whom Barba had also assumed was straight. His gay-dar was officially broken.

**“What sticker would you have chosen Rita?”**

_“I plead the fifth.”_

**“I bet you do.”**

_“What about you smart ass?”_

**“I’d stick with the original flag. I’m a classic.”**

Rita laughed at that and gave Barba an affectionate smile. He simply shrugged with his own cocky grin. It was enough to move the conversation in another direction.

_“Let’s order.”_

* * *

A delicious meal and two drinks later, Barba would admit he was having a wonderful evening. The stress of the workday was melting away and the live performances had them thoroughly entertained. He’d never admit it to Rita, but she had been right about the man she’d set him up with. It wasn’t a love connection, but he could easily spend an evening or more with him.

Rashad had arrived with Russell just as they had ordered their second round of drinks. He’d left his suspenders and suede boots at home, opting for a more casual look that evening. Rashad was nearly the same height as Barba but with a stockier build. He was wearing light torn jeans that were rolled up and cuffed above the ankles, converse sneakers and a loose white t-shirt that skimmed his muscular form. He was wearing a turquoise belt which Barba felt added a touch of whimsy to the otherwise casual ensemble.

He could see his chest hair peeking out at the neckline, along with a necklace with a round pendant. Barba couldn’t make out the writing on the pendant, but Rashad seemed to play with it when he was listening to someone else speak. It must be something he’d had a long time. He was certainly confident with himself, engaging in self-deprecating humour and teasing the others playfully.

Another performance had started which quieted the conversation and drew Barba’s attention away from his chest hair and towards the stage. He did a quick scan of the crowd below; it had grown significantly since they’d first arrived. The latest additions to the crowd skewed younger and unquestionably queerer. It was nice to see such a diverse audience. 

As his glanced moved across the room he saw a familiar face- one that still showed up in his dreams. Carisi was casually chatting with a gaggle of what he could only presume were law students. It must have been an organized outing. It was nice to see Carisi looking well. He appeared to be rested, his body language was relaxed, and he had his trademark smile, dimples an all. He was chatting animatedly with the group he was seated with, gesticulating wildly. Carisi looked happy and it was great to see it, even from afar.

The only downside to balcony level seating was that the washroom was in the basement. Thankfully they were clean and fully stocked, so Barba wouldn’t complain about the location too much. He’d just made his way back to their table and noticed Rita was sitting on her own. Where had Russel and Rashad gotten to? He would have crossed paths with them on his back from the washroom if that’s where they were headed.

**“Have our dates made an escape and left us with the bill?”** Barba teased. It may have happened to them once in their youth and Rita was forever sore about it.

_“Not this time Rafael. They’re outside vaping.”_

**“Seriously? Russell too?”**

_“I could not make this stuff up. Remember what I said about the newly divorced with a child-free evening. They turn into "yes" people.”_

**“He’s getting a bit indiscriminate with that approach.”**

_“I’m to extend the invite for you to go join them. I believe the options were peach, citrus or cotton candy.”_

**“I’m going to have to politely decline on all counts.”**

“I agree, we’d be much better off with freshened drinks.”

**“Not what I said.”**

_“But it is what you are going to do.”_

**“Is that so?”**

_“I’d bet my life on it.”_

**“I didn’t know you had a death wish.”**

_“You’d really make me walk down that staircase of doom to prove a point? Have you seen the heels I’m wearing?”_

“ **I had to go down two staircases to get the washroom in the basement. I just sat back down.”**

_“Which proves that you can handle stairs with ease. Come on Rafael, you know taking the stairs will tighten your thighs and lift your ass. Consider it a warmup for your evening.”_

She wasn’t entirely wrong- taking the stairs did work his muscles and a little extra exercise might make them feel more pronounced to the touch and make his veins bulge that little bit more. Still, he can tell when he’s being manipulated.

Barba looked down towards the bar to point out the line when he notices something he likes. Recognizes! Something he recognizes… Carisi. A quick scan shows that Bianca is nowhere in sight.

**“Fine, but I’m only doing this because you’re paying.”**

_“That’s a compromise I can live with. Get a pitcher of beer for the boys and a pitcher of sangria for us. Less trips.”_

**“You got it.”**

* * *

Once Barba had made his way down the stairs and towards the bar, he immediately regretted it. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to be near Carisi in that moment, and he also did not have a plan for how to approach him. Should he accidentally bump into him in line? Avoid him as a professional courtesy? If he was half as drunk as he was the night of their call it was probably not the best time to chat.

And then he could feel it. That tingly prickly sensation on his neck that told him Carisi was watching him. Barba raised his eyes upward and suddenly Carisi was right there. Smiling, relaxed and smelling incredible. He gave Barba an abrupt wave and motioned for him to join him in line.

“ _Counsellor! I didn’t expect to see you here tonight”_ he said without malice, his tone cheerful.

**“I didn’t expect to be here either Carisi, it was kind of a last-minute thing”** he responded without missing a beat. This was the closest to their usual banter that he’d experienced in over a week. It felt great.

_“Blind date huh?”_ he volleyed back with a cheeky grin. Barba hadn’t realized Carisi had spotted him earlier in the night, but he shouldn’t be surprised. He was a detective after all. And a good one at that.

**“What gave it away?”** Barba said. There was no point in hiding the truth.

“ _I saw you and Rita were here a couple hours before they joined you. I ran into Professor T and your date on their way in. I noticed the Boston accent, but he didn’t look like he’d be in your Harvard class, so I took a guess”_ he explained, shrugging at the end of it.

He didn’t look like he’d been in their Harvard class? Was Carisi calling him old? He wasn’t wrong, Rashad must be 10 years younger than he is at a minimum. But still, it was unlike Carisi to point something like that out. Perhaps Carisi was feeling more confident around Barba now, and felt he could tease him in the same way that Barba used to tease Carisi.

**“Are you saying my date is too young for me or too handsome?”** Barba joked.

He knew that Carisi would react to the statement in a way that would keep the conversation going. Carisi blushed immediately and completely, his eyes growing wide and his mouth trying to sputter out a response. It was hilarious.

_“What! No! Neither! It’s just that you and Rita and Professor T all kind of have the same vibe and that guy stood out”_ he tried to explain.

Barba knew what he meant. Rashad was casual, carefree, a bit hipster and an environmental nut. Barba was (usually) purpose driven, formal, particular, and went through a forest’s worth of coffee cups in a week. He wasn’t proud of that last bit, but still, he can understand why Rashad would stand out in their group. Still, Carisi wasn’t getting off that easily.

**“Old and homely?”** he replied. It was so easy to get a rise out of the detective.

_“Smart and hot!”_ Carisi said and then proceeded to blush even more, looking shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. 

Smart and hot? Barba couldn’t help but preen at that. He wasn’t sure if the detective meant what he had said or if he had simply chosen two antonyms to the terms Barba had used in his previous sentence. He decided to believe it was the former. This was only getting better. 

**“So, you’re saying my date looks dumb?”** He couldn’t help it, he loved to be contrary.

_“Ohhh God NO!”_ Carisi groaned and raised his arms to cover his face with his hands. He looked every bit embarrassed.

It was cute how easily he could be thrown off by Barba. The line was moving, and they were nearly at the front of the bar now. Barba then remembered how emotional the detective had been on the phone with him. Carisi was a sweet and thoughtful man and the last thing Barba wanted to do was cause him any distress. He’d have to do something to get that look off Carisi’s face. This was just good-natured ribbing.

He must have moved on instinct because the next thing Barba knew he had grabbed Carisi’s forearms and pulled his hands away from his face. Carisi was looking towards the floor with a bashful grin and Barba was chuckling. He ducked his head to try and catch Carisi’s eyes. When he wasn’t successful, he squeezed his arms twice, trying to be friendly. Comforting even. He could feel his muscles flex underneath. Carisi stilled and turned to face him again. His expression was a mixture of confusion and nervousness, but his eyes looked hopeful.

**“Relax Carisi I was only kidding around. You were correct. He is a blind date. Rita met him at a bar yesterday and the only reason she thought we’d hit it off was because he was wearing suspenders. He’s younger, he’s from Boston and at this point the maximum length of time she’s known him is 24 hours.”**

Barba made sure to keep his expression open and his smile on full display. He was still holding onto Carisi’s forearms and had been swinging them back and forth to keep the playful teasing atmosphere. At least that’s what he is assuming now, he hadn’t been aware he was doing it until it had already happened.

The line moved again and now they were both at the front, leaning onto the bar top. Carisi was served first and he ordered a soda water and a whisky sour.

**“Trying to stay hydrated?”** Barba said, offering an alternate topic for conversation. They bar was so busy and rambunctious that they had to stand close together. Their elbows were touching…

_“Nah, the drink is for Bianca and the water is for me. I’m trying to pace myself a bit better this evening”_ he said with a self-conscious smile.

A different bartender appeared in front Barba and took his order of a pitcher of beer and a pitcher of sangria. Carisi gave him a look of surprise with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

**“I’m taking the opposite approach it would seem.”**

_“You do you Counsellor.”_

**“That wasn’t exactly the plan…”** Barba retorted without thinking. Shit. That was crass. The bar had gotten noisy at that moment, maybe Carisi didn’t notice?

Carisi burst into a full body laugh. Guess he’d heard.

_“For what it’s worth, he seems to have the same idea”_ Carisi said, still chuckling.

**“Oh ya?”** Barba was beginning to wonder just how much time Carisi had spent watching them that evening.

_“100% he’s been looking at you like you’re a snack.”_

Thankfully their drinks arrived at that moment as Barba had no idea how to respond. From the context of what Carisi had said, he knew it was complimentary, but he’d have to lookup “snack” on urban dictionary to be sure. Sonny looked at the full pitchers that Barba had in his hands and then up towards the staircase.

_“You sure you can carry those up the stairs? I’d hate to see you spill sangria on one of your shirts.”_

**“I will admit that I failed to consider the logistics of getting both pitchers up the stairs. My only aim was to limit the number of trips overall.”**

It was one of those metal spiral staircases and he’d relied on the handrail to navigate it before. Carisi looked as if he were prepared to leave his own drinks on the bar to assist him when he appeared to spot someone he recognized.

_“Professor T we’re over here!”_ Carisi bellowed across the bar. It worked- Russell had heard him and made his way over to them.

Russell smelled of peaches and maybe something else… something plant based… He was all smiles and his eyes had the telltale redness around them. Maybe Barba was mistaken. He looked towards Carisi and saw that he looked thoroughly surprised and entertained.

Rashad joined them a moment later, likely confused as to why Russell had responded to “Professor T”. His eyes looked clear, if not a bit watery. Perhaps he carried drops with him. Barba assumed he’d been the one to provide an “plant-based recreational products”. Guess he really was in town for a good time.

_“I think he could use a hand with one of these pitchers”_ Carisi said, gesturing to Barba.

“I got it Rafi” Russel said, carefully taking the sangria pitcher away from Barba. That was new- he'd never called him Raif before. He must have gotten it from Rita.

_“Let me help”_ Rashad said, taking the beer pitcher from his other hand.

**“Much obliged.”**

They both sounded remarkably cheerful. Carisi was trying not to laugh at the situation- he could tell they were both high. His eyes locked with Barba’s one final time as he patted him on the back.

_“Enjoy the rest of your night- Rafi.”_

Then he had the audacity to wink at him! But there was no time to dwell on that. The lights were beginning to dim again which meant another performance was imminent. And they all had to get themselves back up the stairs.

Rita gave Barba a look when he returned but she said nothing while his date is there. Barba knew that look- it meant questions were forthcoming the minute they had some privacy. Russell and Rashad were chatting and pouring everyone a drink when Barba’s phone vibrated. He’d had the good sense to put his ringer on silent that evening.

It was a text message from Carisi. He was responding to the text Barba had sent him days ago.

> _**[11:16 PM]** _
> 
> _**Det. Carisi:** _ _I’d like that too. You are fun to “co-exist” with :) Take it easy with the green if you partake! Stranger danger and all that :P_

He should be embarrassed to have a younger co-worker, a cop no less, sending him veiled warnings about the perils of cannabis consumption. Instead all he felt was cared for. The smile Barba had after receiving the text lasted through to the next performance.

* * *

The pitchers were drained and the energy in the room was vibrant. Barba was truly having an outstanding evening. The performances were well choreographed, visually striking and enthralling. There was no question about Russell’s intentions with Rita now. They were playfully flirting all night and it was losing any semblance of subtly now. Go Rita!

Rashad had more depth than Barba had initially given him credit for. His passion for the law was evident (cannabis regulations aside) and the complexity of his work was profound. Barba could listen to him talk about the law for hours, if he wasn't so pleasantly tipsy. Rashad's interest in theatre was more music based. It turned out he played nine instruments, including something called a hydrolauphone? Barba would have to google that later.

He was flirting with Barba and not one bit shy about it. Barba was surprised he hadn't noticed it before Carisi pointed it out. Rashad would sometimes invade his personal space, leaning forward to explain something, whispering it into his ear when the music made it more difficult to hear. It was working. Then Barba would randomly remember Carisi winking at him and that would throw him off for a moment or two. Barba wasn’t used to having an audience while he was being seduced, although he could admit it was titillating.

Rashad raised his arms above his head and leaned his body back against his chair in a big stretch. His t-shirt raised a bit while he did this and Barba was drawn to the sliver of exposed skin he saw there. He was equal parts muscular and hairy and Barba instantly wanted to follow the path. He didn’t mind a little grass on the field…

_“Rashad, get up, let’s go”_ Russell commanded, immediately breaking the trance Barba was stuck in.

“Right! I had forgotten it’s almost time!” he said jumping up and out of his chair.

_‘What’s all this?”_ Rita asked with a furrowed brow. She’d had her hand on Russell’s knee the last time Barba had checked. Under the table of course.

**“Was Cinderella supposed to be home when the clock struck midnight?”** Barba teased. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was in too good a mood to care. The perks of wine and positive attention.

_“Your mind might have been otherwise engaged”_ Russell teased, giving a Barba a knowing look _“but the professional performances are over for the evening. They opened it up to the crowd to perform anything from standard karaoke, to instruments, to dance routines. People also submitted anonymous requests for specific songs and skits. Rashad and I have something planned so stay tuned!”_

**“I didn’t know you were a singer as well.”** Barba was intrigued. He liked a man of many talents. Especially if it was one he didn't possess.

“I didn’t say I would be singing.”

**“What else would you be doing?”**

“You’ll have to wait and see!” Rashad teased.

_“We’ll take another round on your way back up!”_ Rita yelled after them, as they made their way towards the rickety staircase. And then it was just Rita and Barba again. Blissfully plastered and happy as could be. They sat in companionable silence as they watched the stage being rearranged and the lighting dimmed.

* * *

The host of the night came on and addressed the crowd.

**“Guys, Gals and Non-Binary Pals- how are well all doing tonight!”**

The cheering in the room was boisterous. Great energy for how late it had gotten.

**“Let’s give a round of applause for everyone who came out for Showtunes Karaoke shall we! Now it’s that time of the night where we slow things down. Back by popular demand, we have our Hurts Sooooooooo Good segment.”**

The crowd became even more enthusiastic. Barba and Rita just looked at each other and shrugged.

**“Give us breakup ballads! Give us angst! Give us rage! We want tears baby! And don’t forget, you can vote for your favourite performance. We will donate $500 to the LGBTQ+ charity of the winner’s choice AND we will donate the proceeds from the bar from hereon out to NYC Pride. Win-Win! If you haven’t already signed up, you can do so with Raven. Give everyone a wave Raven!”**

_“I have a feeling we should have insisted on our drinks beforehand Rafael.”_

**“I wholeheartedly agree.”**

_“Oh God, they are on the stage and they’ve made friends.”_

Barba looked towards the stage and sure enough they’d made friends. Russell was in front of the microphone now and Rashad was behind the piano. A woman from the Fordham table was holding an electric guitar and another was on the drums. The rest of the table was cheering for “Professor T”.

**“You know I’d have never pegged him for the type of Professor who made friends with his students.”**

_“He’s apparently INCREDIBLY involved in community advocacy so most of them know him through that. I suppose I should be pleased he’s not out chasing the undergraduates.”_

**“First of all, you could do WAY better than the any man chasing jailbait. Secondly, I agree that they all appear to be at or near 30.”**

_“Shut up it’s starting!”_

Barba returned his focus to the stage and nearly brought his empty glass to his lips before stopping. He was missing the heavy weight of a full beverage. The host was back at the microphone to introduce everyone.

**“I am SO pleased to announce that the beautiful people on the stage have agreed to perform one of the audience requests we received. It’s a unique take on this blast from the past to get us started!”**

As soon as the music started up there was a murmur amongst the crowd. Barba could recognize the song but had no idea from where.

> _So much to believe in, we were lost in time_  
>  _Everything I needed_  
>  _I felt into your eyes_  
>  _Always thought of keepin'_  
>  _Your heart next to mine_  
>  _But now that seems so far away_  
>  _Don't know how love could leave without a trace_  
>  _Where do silent hearts go?_

Russell had a great voice and Rashad wasn’t overselling his musical talents. He looked in full command of the piano.

> _Where does my heart beat now?_  
>  _Where is the sound_  
>  _That only echoes through the night?_  
>  _Where does my heart beat now?_  
>  _I can't live without_  
>  _Without feeling it inside_

The chorus was memorable… where was that from?!? The crowd seemed to love it- especially one table which must have made the request. There was a huge round of applause and a thanks from the host for them being such good sports and starting the night off. The host told everyone to take five minutes to get a drink before the next song.

_“Permission to be crass?”_

**“Granted.”**

_“I’ve never been one to go for the guy in a band but holy fuck that was hot.”_

**“I'm inclined to agree.”** Reluctantly. Barba felt his reaction was unbecoming in some way. He wasn’t a teenager.

_“I think we just got some insight into what happened with the ex-wife in Queens.”_

**“I’ll say. What was that song? I know that I know it, but the answer is eluding me. Who sang that originally?”**

_“No idea but I’m absolutely parched.”_ It was clear Rita had a one-track mind in that moment.

**“I’ll stop by the bar I need to take a washroom break anyhow.”**

* * *

When Barba returned to their table with the drinks someone had just finished singing Harvest Moon by Neil Young. He was grateful that he hadn’t had to wait in the huge bar line- there were perks to tipping well early in the night.

_“We’ve been abandoned.”_

**“Dramatic much Rita? Did they leave?”**

_“No but they seem to be mingling with the Fordham table. I guess they are planning their next performance.”_

**“That hardly qualifies as abandonment. You could always grab a tambourine and join them?”** He teased, but Rita wasn't having it. 

_“We’ve spent more time together this evening than we have with our dates.”_

**“We had a two-hour head start. Finish your drink, things might start looking up.”**

He looked down toward the table where Carisi and his friends had been sitting, AKA the Fordham table. A few of them were playfully pushing at Carisi urging him to stand. One was even bold enough to begin to grab the chair he was sitting in and try to forcibly remove it from under him. They all appeared to be laughing, so it couldn’t have been a fight. Curious.

Carisi then made his way onto the stage, where staff were still rearranging instruments, removing props and setting up a microphone. 

_“You think choir boy might actually have a set of pipes? The way they keep adjusting that microphone to his height I’m guessing he’s about to sing. Or embarrass himself with a painful comedy routine. It could go either way.”_

**“I wonder what song he’d perform?”** Barba said to himself, although it must have been out loud since Rita responded.

_“Barney is a dinosaur of our imagination”_ Rita sang to him. 

**“Will you stop”** Barba said, kicking her gently under the table. She could become a bit obnoxious when she was sloshed.

_“What’s the issue Rafael, it’s a valid guess. I’m sure he knows it. That pretty young thing.”_

**“He may be young, but he’s not anthropomorphic dinosaur young.”**

_“You don’t know that for sure. Besides, that generation is steeped in nostalgia. He fits the demographic.”_

**“And what demographic is that?”**

“Millennial.”

Barba knew there was an age difference between him and the detective, but he preferred to believe that Carisi was Gen X, the same as him. Although why that mattered to him was a mystery. 

**“OK Rita, I think that is a bit of a stretch.”**

_“I bet that’s not the stretch you’d like to be making with him.”_

**“ENOUGH RITA!”** Barba said, instantly blushing. He was feeling hot around the collar and it wasn’t from the heat or the wine.

_“Bet you’d prefer he get up there and belt out some Ginuwine. You know the song I’m talking about.”_

**“Nobody asked you Rita.”**

_“Actually you did.”_

**“I did not. I internally pondered. Aloud.”**

_“A for effort Barba, that almost made sense. You want to keep denying the fact you’re hoping the Italian stallion will let you take a ride?”_

**“You have lost your ever-loving mind. Someone might hear you!”** Barba glanced around frantically to see if anyone had overheard. The last thing they needed were sexual harassment allegations. Although technically Rita was the one objectifying Carisi in that moment.

_“Saddles waiting.”_

Well it was official- Rita was cut off.

**“I think it’s time we shut down the tab at the bar.”**

_“Speak for yourself Barba.”_

**“I was speaking for you! I think I need a double.”**

_“You’ve had a thing for him ever since he yelled at you.”_

**“He didn’t yell at me.”**

_“Fine, since he communicated assertively. It’s your thing.”_

**“It’s not my thing.”**

_“So you admit you have a thing?”_

**“I changed my mind, have another drink Rita.”**

_“Is the age difference really standing in your way?”_

**“I’m currently on a group date that YOU organized! In our forties no less! He may or may not be swimming in a sea of peach vapours somewhere. Or putting on some tap shoes.”**

_“They already had the peach. My guess is they go for the cotton candy next.”_

**“I rest my case.”**

_“Rashad is great for a fling. Enjoy it for what it is. But don’t think I can’t see what’s happening with Sonny.”_

**“He’s Sonny to you now?”**

_“He could be for you too. It’d probably make his year if you called him that.”_

Yes, Barba thinks to himself. It probably would. As luck would have it, Russell returned to the table with the drinks he had promised. Barba knew that any beverage past this round would be a terrible idea, but that was tomorrows problem. He also noticed that Rashad was nowhere in sight.

**“Rashad having a smoke break?”**

_“Not at all he sends his apologies. Once the host realized he could play so many different instruments they begged him to stay and help round out the other acts. We got these drinks on the house and were promised a plate of nachos.”_

**“He seemed to make friends with the Fordham crew.”** Not that Barba was jealous, but he could now see Rashad and Carisi chatting now and that just felt weird.

_“They are a persistent bunch. Bianca let it slip that Sonny was in his church choir and he’s been strong-armed into performing as well.”_

**“I’m curious to see what he’s selected.”**

_“I told you he was a choir boy.”_ Rita whispered to Barba, laughing to herself.

* * *

Rashad was now behind a set of drums, two folks from the Fordham table were holding different looking guitars and Carisi was behind the microphone. The host addressed the crowd to get them riled up and then concentrated on Carisi.

**“Well helllooooo party people! We’re back with another act. These folks are a bit shy so let’s give them a warm welcome. What are you about to dazzle us with sweetheart?”**

“I’m not a singer by any stretch and since I was volun-told to sing by my table here I’m just going with my favourite song.”

**“Will it make us hurt sooooo good?”** The host asked full of energy and cheer.

“Does the trick for me.” Sonny responded with a bashful smile and a slight blush. It was very endearing. The music started and Barba was completely enraptured.

> _Wake up, medicate, again  
>  Ever after is a friend  
>  But you and I we get so high  
>  We never quite came down  
>  Ever after again_

Carisi’s face full of emotion already. His eyes were focused downward, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. Barba had just noticed that there was no karaoke screen nearby, so he was likely singing from memory.

> _What could be more beautiful than you  
>  and I falling from grace  
>  All the things we’ll never know   
>  so beautiful they’re slipping away_

Rashad’s body was full of movement as he skillfully played the drums. His muscles were beginning to pop with the forceful command of the drumsticks.

> _Light my past on fire  
>  Spell it right in black and white  
>  A coward's here for hire_

Carisi was beginning to have more of a stage presence. He was bringing his arms and hands into his movements.

> _What could be more beautiful than you  
>  and I falling from grace  
>  All the things we'll never know  
>  so beautiful they're slipping away_

Barba noticed that Rita had moved as close to the edge of her seat that she could, fascinated by the performance.

> _It's time to pack up and vacate  
>  I'm so fed up of closing up   
>  And running from myself_

Carisi’s whole body was involved now. He was completely and fully living in the moment.

> _What could be more beautiful than you  
>  and I falling from grace  
>  All the things we’ll never know   
>  so beautiful they’re slipping away_

Rashad’s shirt had ridden up and he was beginning to sweat. Barba thought he could see the hint of a tattoo which added to his appeal. His body felt electric, buzzing with energy. He’d never reacted this way to a music performance before.

> _Wake up, medicate, again  
>  'Cause ever after is my friend_

The crowd gave enthusiastic applause and there were even a few whistles. Carisi blushed so thoroughly it was as if he’d changed colour. He looked shell shocked, as if he couldn’t believe it had really happened.

**“Yasssssss that hurt sooooooo good! This one wasn’t in our karaoke inventory, so they had to look at the sheet music on their phones or play from memory folks. What song was that gorgeous?”**

The host stared at Carisi, but he wasn’t responding. Barba guessed Carisi hadn’t clued into the fact he was the “gorgeous” the host was referring to. A quick poke to the ribs from the host cleared that up quickly.

“Uhhh sorry, it’s um, it’s called Beautiful by Thornley.”

**“And what are you called honey?”**

“I’m Sonny.”

**“Well you certainly are a ray of sunshine goldilocks. Can I sweet talk you into doing one of my favourites later? It’s for a good cause after all.”**

“Sure, yeah, I guess, sure, of course.” Carisi looked flustered and embarrassed and like he’d agree to just about anything to get off that stage.

**“Let’s give them another round of applause!”**

Carisi left the stage and Barba turned his attention back to his table. He was at a loss for words. That had been an incredible performance. Carisi’s voice had the perfect combination of raspy, deep and filled with raw emotion. He wouldn’t mind that playing on a loop in his mind for a week.

_“I had no idea that choir boy had it in him.”_ Rita said, still looking shocked herself.

**“Nor did I. That was unexpected.”**

**_“_** _I’ve learned to never underestimate Sonny. He was a student that continually surprised me. Real tenacious that one.”_ Russell said, looking something akin to a proud parent.

Rashad appeared with a waiter’s tray of food and drink. Barba had no idea how he’d managed to navigate the staircase with that, but he was grateful. It contained the promised nachos, along with sweet potato fries and some pita bread. It would be murder for his waistline but perfect for soaking up some of this booze. There was a pitcher of beer on the tray, along with some other beverages in glasses. Rashad handed one to Barba and he hesitated to take it, feeling drunk enough already. 

“It’s soda water. I hope that’s ok? It’s just that you and Rita had a head start and I figured you might want to take a bit of a break? I’m sorry if that was presumptuous, I just made a guess based on my own alcohol tolerance. You’re welcome to the beer if you have it in you!”

Barba was touched and appreciated the gesture. He’d had enough to drink but if he was offered more, he might have gone for it. This evening was easily the most fun he’d had in ages. He hadn’t looked at his cellphone once, he’d been entertained the entire night, and his blind date turned out to be a combo stud and musical prodigy.

**“Not presumptuous at all, I really appreciate this. I think all I’ve had to drink today was coffee and alcohol, my body is due for some water.”**

“Let me know if there is anything else you want or need, and I’ll take care of it. The venue will cover the rest of our night. The crowd has stayed longer than usual tonight and they are racking up big bar tabs, so they are keen to keep me around to keep the performances going. I apologize for being so absent.”

**“Not necessary. I know the proceeds of the evening are being donated. You’re talented with your hands, I’ve enjoyed the show.”**

“Well thanks, my ego appreciates the feedback! I’m not needed for the next few performances so I’m excited to watch them with you.”

Rita had just noticed Rashad’s return and the goodies on the table.

_“The food fairy came, thank goodness.”_

* * *

A string of strong performers kept the night going with renditions of Sinéad O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2 U, Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide and Toni Braxton’s Un-Break My Heart.

Barba was so busy enjoying the food and sobering up a bit that he failed to notice that he was essentially alone at the table. Rashad had left to play a few more instruments. Rita and Russell were engaged in conversation seated AWFULLY close together. He took that opportunity to people watch again.

Carisi’s table had thinned out some. Bianca was still there, along with the folks who’d played instruments. He could see the host chatting with him, being very touchy feely. Carisi was trying to politely discourage the physical contact but it was clear his reflexes were impacted by his alcohol consumption. Not to the point where Barba was concerned, but enough that Bianca looked less than impressed. Guess the social worker was feeling territorial that night.

Barba took another washroom break and when he returned, he could see that Rashad was once again behind the piano and Carisi was seated on a stool in front of a microphone, holding a guitar. Carisi played the guitar? He shifted in his seat to take something out of his pocket. It was a shocking purple colour… what was that?

**“Alllllrrrriggghhhhttttt Guys, Gals and Non-Binary Pals! To end the live performances of the night we’ve got my newest crush Sonny up here to sing my favourite song! Well a cover of my favourite song, Mr. Sunshine here prefers the Johnny Cash version, but he’s so cute I went for it. Are you ready doll?”**

“All set.”

Carisi looked shy, likely due to the barrage of attention the host had just given him in front of a crowd. Barba guessed Carisi wasn’t used to it. Which was a shame because he wasn’t a bad looking guy. Not at all.

Within the first few chords Barba knew exactly what song this was. It was also his favourite.

> _I hurt myself today  
>  To see if I still feel  
>  I focus on the pain  
>  The only thing that's real_

The lyrics spoke to him on a visceral level.

> _The needle tears a hole  
>  The old familiar sting  
>  Try to kill it all away  
>  But I remember everything_

On the absolute rare occasion that he allowed himself to wallow, to indulge in feeling anything but confident and self-assured, he’d listen to this. Original, cover, acoustic, remixed, it didn’t matter. He agreed with Carisi though, the Johnny Cash version was the best.

> _What have I become  
>  My sweetest friend?  
>  Everyone I know  
>  Goes away in the end_

Barba watched Carisi, mesmerized by his physical form. He watched his left hand grasping the neck of the guitar, his fingers moving of the narrow surface of it.

> _And you could have it all  
>  My empire of dirt  
>  I will let you down  
>  I will make you hurt_

He watched his right hand strumming. Carisi grasped a violet guitar pick between his thumb and his index finger, and Barba watched the violet move across the strings.

> _I wear this crown of thorns  
>  Upon my liar's chair  
>  Full of broken thoughts  
>  I cannot repair_

He felt his throat constrict with emotion. He lifted his water glass with a shaky hand and brought it to his lips, taking gentle sips to try and quell the lump that had formed. Barba looked towards Rashad and saw that he too was stuck in the moment. His eyes were closed in concentration. The muscles in his back were moving with the force at which his fingers were hitting the keys. His legs were moving, his stance widened. Who knew playing the piano used the entire body?

> _Beneath the stains of time  
>  The feelings disappear  
>  You are someone else  
>  I am still right here_

Barba swallowed forcefully and took a deep breath. He wanted to look away, distract himself with his phone, anything to reign in his feelings but he was captivated by Carisi. The way his face strained with emotion, the way his lips formed the words as that left his mouth, the long line of his neck as he looked down toward the guitar. 

> _What have I become  
>  My sweetest friend?  
>  Everyone I know  
>  Goes away in the end_

He noticed the way the muscles in his forearms moved beneath the surface of his skin as he played the guitar. That violet guitar pick would be the death of him. It was so bright he couldn’t help but follow it up and down.

> _And you could have it all  
>  My empire of dirt  
>  I will let you down  
>  I will make you hurt_

His voice conveyed every nuance, every bit of emotion within the song. It was as if the lyrics took on a life of their own. Somehow the Staten Island accent just WORKED- it was so Carisi and so beautiful. His brown was furrowed, his eyes looked closed and his lips pinker than he remembered. Carisi had tilted his head back but was facing the crowd leading up to the final verse. Barba didn’t want it to end.

> _If I could start again  
>  A million miles away  
>  I will keep myself  
>  I would find a way_

The entire bar applauded enthusiastically- whistling, cheering, you name it. Barba’s eyes stung with unexpressed emotion. He was gobsmacked by Carisi’s performance. It was incredible. He’d had goosebumps the entire time. He could see his hands hitting one another and knew he was clapping, but his body could not register the movement or feel the sensation. The entirety of his being was wrapped up in Carisi- the way he looked, the way he sounded and everything about the way it made him feel.

**“WOWWWWW!!! Am I right? Let’s hear it for Sunshine and Mr. Magic Fingers on the piano!”**

Mr. Magic Fingers? Sonny sang alone up there. Every word, every note was him. Oh. Right. Rashad. Of course, on the piano. Which was also excellent.

Sonny looked dazed. His blue eyes were sparkling, he could see he was unsteady on his feet as he got up from the stool. Rashad was clapping him on the back and Raven was fawning all over him. There was his blush again! Or it could be heat from the lights. Barba felt like the venue had gotten 10 degrees hotter in a matter of minutes.

**“What’s the matter there Sunshine? You look surprised. Did you doubt you could pull it off?”**

“Ummm, no, I just, ummm, I think it’s the first time I’ve sung that song without crying, so, yeah…” Carisi explained, clearing his throat. He looked moved himself. He was still grasping the violet guitar pick in one hand.

**“Awwwww and he’s sensitive too folks! What about you Mr. Magic Fingers- is there any instrument you cannot play?”**

_“The recorder, that thing’s a nightmare.”_

**“I think we can all agree on that! Thank you both and thank you to everyone who performed, participated and partied with us. Don’t forget to get your votes into Raven! We’ll announce the winners and the charitable donation roster on our Instagram. Until next time folks!”**

The crowd quieted down and some generic music came over the speakers. Barba was still sitting quietly with his thoughts when Rita spoke up.

_“Holy fucking shit, I didn’t think Bambi had that in him.”_ Rita practically screamed.

“Even after the last one?” Russell asked, looking amused at her outburst.

_“You’ve obviously never seen him in the workplace. He comes across much differently.”_ Rita explained, using her hands to emphasize her feelings. Russell just laughed.

“It looks like he has a fan club keeping him hostage down there.” Russell commented but Barba wasn't paying attention to where he was pointing. 

**“Yes, people tend to love dreamy blondes**.” Barba said without thinking, as he was still lost in his own head.

“I was talking about Rashad… as you can see there is a circle forming around him below…”

And sure enough there was. It appeared to be all the folks he’d helped with background music that night, as well as a few others. The way he handled instruments was attractive. It’s just not where Barba’s attention had been the majority of the time. Although it should have been. He needed to get it together.

* * *

Rita, Russell and Rashad (Barba had just noticed the alliteration at the table) were enjoying drinks and chatting animatedly. Barba was there in body, but in spirit he was still lost in Carisi. He could see him standing near the bar, with Bianca at a distance. Despite having observed their interactions over a few occasions, he still couldn’t ascertain the nature of their relationship.

They were hard to read. They didn’t act very “couple-y”, despite her looking less than impressed with Raven’s overtures. That could be attributed to the clear discomfort that Carisi was displaying. At a distance he could see Bianca try to sneakily get Carisi’s attention.

He’d made his way to the front of the bar line when she saddled up beside him. She grabbed him by the belt loop on the side of his pants, stealthily pulling his body towards hers. He turned to the side to see who it was and then broke into a big smile, dimples on full display. She slipped her hand down the side of his hip to make contact with his ass. Which was looking vert pert and shapely in that outfit.

She got on her tip toes to whisper something in his ear and he leaned down toward her to make it easier. Her hand was still grazing the crest of his behind, and he could see her subtly squeeze him, encroaching on his physical space further. It was discrete- even in the large crowd you wouldn’t see it if you weren’t expressly looking for it.

So why was Barba looking? He should really get home. His head and his heart were full and his body was still buzzing. He’d done all the psychoanalyzing he could manage at this stage of sobriety and in this frame of mind. It was time to get out of there.

**“I have had a wonderful night! The best I’ve had in a long while. Thank you all for including me in your plans. I’m afraid once the clock strikes 2 AM it’s time for me to head home, so I must take my leave.”**

_“Want to share a cab?”_ Rashad asked him, with an sly grin. Rita nudged his foot under the table and Russell had the decency to look a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.

**“Sure.”**

Again, there were worse ways to spend an evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a Trans March during our pride celebrations here. It is similar to a traditional pride parade, except it doesn't have all the corporate sponsorships, rainbow-washing and fanfare. It's more political and community based. This may differ from NYC, but the fic is based on this premise. 
> 
> Rainbow Railroad is a real organization. They assist those in fleeing persecution, torture and murder due to their sexuality. Lots of info on their website if you're interested. This fic mentions this group as one Sonny volunteers with. 
> 
> Three sheets to the wind= incredibly drunk
> 
> Green/Bontanicals = cannabis 
> 
> Barney the Dinosaur was a children’s show from the 90’s. Carisi would have a been a bit old to watch it but would likely be familiar due to a having younger sibling. 
> 
> The Ginuwine song Rita refers to is "Pony". 
> 
> The song that Russell sang was Where Does My Heart Beat Now? by Celine Dion circa 1990.


	8. Heather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotel suites, cats, pastries, vivid dreaming and happy endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: The rating was updated! A guide on how to avoid the mature content while still reading the feelings sections is below. This chapter can be also be skipped entirely and the rest of the story will still make sense if that is safer for you :) 
> 
> Parts of this chapter are smutty? Light smut? Smut adjacent? Full on smut and I have no sense of social norms or common decency? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> If you ignore the dream sequences, you can skip over a lot of it. I’ve put them in italics and added “Zzzzz” to identify them. I’ve also added day and time stamps to the events. 
> 
> Skip the section that says Sunday 8:26 AM if you dislike smut. I also added the tag "mildly dubious consent" for a very brief moment in this section. An explicit consent conversation follows, this is only indicated as a precaution. 
> 
> I almost deleted this entire chapter to start from scratch because I felt so self-conscious about it. I didn’t intend to include smut in my first fanfic, but here we are. You can blame/thank a weekend of day-drinking for this development. Three cheers for gin? 
> 
> There are still lots of feelings and subtext as well. But yeah, some overtly sexual(ish) scenes ahead. You’re welcome and/or I’m sorry!

**Sunday- 6:07 AM**

They hadn’t even had sex. Not even a little bit. At least, not that night.

Which begged the question- how on earth did Barba find himself in a Candlewood Suites in Times Square? On a Sunday morning. Underneath scratchy sheets, next to a rambunctious, albeit adorable, kitten, and in an artificially cooled room that was cluttered with a near stranger’s possessions.

Theremin was particularly fond of Barba actually. The rescue kitten was the runt of the litter and teeny tiny in size, but large in personality. She was a vocal little ball of fluff- a mixture of orange and black, scrappy and missing one eye from her time on the streets. Whenever Barba’s forearms had emerged from underneath the subpar bedding, Theremin saw fit to swat at him, assuming it was play time. Rashad had laughed and said that was her “tortitude”. Whatever that meant. 

Being covered in scratches after a one-night stand (or snooze, in this case) wasn’t new to Barba, but the source of the scratches was unexpected. Still, she was ridiculously cute all curled up on his bicep. Evidently the “play fighting” had tuckered her out and she was now fast asleep, cutting of his circulation. Barba could hardly begrudge the sweet thing- he was technically in her spot.

Come to think of it, that’s how it all started. “I want you to meet my cat!” What kind of a line is that? An effective one it would seem because Barba had said “absolutely”. Absolutely? Rita would never believe it if he told her. When he told her- she had a way of getting information out of him.

The end of Barba’s night was fuzzy, but not completely forgotten. He’d been reeling from Carisi’s rendition of his favourite song, full of emotion and perplexed by the pull he felt to be closer to him. Maybe he was conflating his attachment to that song to the person who sang it? He remembered watching Bianca express her intention to be “closer” to Carisi, in a more intimate manner. He wondered how his night played out…

Purring? Theremin was purring loudly, inches away from his ear. Rashad was still sleeping peacefully next to him- one arm above his head, the other across his chest. The covers dipped below the expanse of his chest and he could see the waistband of his boxer briefs peeking out. That brought back a few memories too. He could feel himself stirring with interest, but the rest of his body just wanted sleep.

He couldn’t read the time on the alarm clock without his glasses, and he had no idea where his phone was. Based on the amount of light coming into the room, the level of street noise and the lack of activity in the hotel hallway, he’d estimate it was roughly 6 AM.

Perhaps Rashad and Theremin had the right idea. Barba closed his eyes again and drifted back to sleep. He’d figure out his next move later.

* * *

**[Earlier]**

**Sunday- 2:14 AM**

_“I want you to meet my cat!”_

They had been in the taxi for all of two minutes before Rashad had blurted that out of nowhere. Barba had been chatting with him about… something… he couldn’t recall but he knew whatever he’d been saying was steeped in sarcasm. Once he’d exited the bar, Barba realized he wasn’t in a rush for his night to end. He just needed to get out of that venue, away from Carisi and all reminders of violet guitar picks. Out of sight, out of mind!

**“Absolutely!”**

Rashad had made a statement, not asked a question, but Barba was feeling bold. His response answered the question he assumed Rashad had meant to ask. Which was “will you come back to my place”. Rashad seemed to pick up on it.

_“Yeah!?! Theremin is probably losing her marbles since I've been out most of the day. Want to come back with me now? You can meet her and I can make us dim sum. Plus I’d love to get to know you a bit better without your chaperone.”_

**“Rita won’t appreciate the insinuation that she’s my elder.”**

_“Rita isn’t the one I’m asking to come over.”_

**“You’d really make dim sum? In a hotel room?”**

_“It’s a studio so there is a small kitchen. Truth be told I already made a bunch and froze it. Not much work involved, just a pot of boiling water. Or if you’re in the mood for dessert I made baklava earlier.”_

That got Barba’s attention. Filo pastry, nuts, honey- yes please. Despite all the ways that he had seen hookups go wrong is his line of work, some of his most memorable nights had been the result of throwing caution to the wind. Gut instinct was this guy was ok.

**“You had me at dessert. Where to?”**

Rashad gave him a winning smile and gave the cabbie the street address. When they pulled up to a Candlewood Suites in Times Square, Barba couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

**“God, you really are from out of town.”**

_“What?”_

**“Nothing says tourist quite like a chain hotel in Times Square.”**

_“I’d have thought my accent would have been a reminder. It’s basically a calling card.”_

**“I spent three years at Harvard, I’m immune.”**

_“You’ve really got that Harvard arrogance nailed down though huh?”_

**“I was merely pointing out a fact.”**

_“Harvard is a school, Cambridge is the city, Massachusetts is the state. You can describe an accent without the humble brag.”_ Rashad retorted, chuckling to himself.

Barba’s jaw had dropped in shock, but his eyes were smiling, giving him away. He wasn’t used to being called out, but he did SO enjoy the sass. Barba paid the cabbie before Rashad even knew what was happening. They were silent making their way into the hotel and Barba started overanalyzing his decision to pay for the cab- was it rude? What was the social protocol these days? Did he not tip enough? He should definitely say something right now.

**“I cover the cab, you cover dessert. Seems like a fair trade to me.”**

_“Well then prepare to have your mind blown, baklava is kind of my speciality.”_ Rashad said, holding the elevator door open so Barba could enter first. Barba almost responded with innuendo but then thought better of it. For now.

They entered his hotel suite or “studio”. It was a compact space made even smaller with the glut of personal effects it had accumulated. There was a small kitchen like he’d said, but he’d also managed to sneak in a full cat tree, a portable garment rack which held suits, several instruments, a record player and a bicycle.

Rashad then called out for the cat in a soft and childlike tone, while making some sort of sucking noise? Pet people were strange.

**“You named your cat Theremin? After the instrument that sounds like it’s from outer space?”**

_“It can be a beautiful instrument in the right hands. Besides give her a few moments and her vocalizations will show you the similarity is uncanny.”_

The kitten seemed to appear out of nowhere and began circling Barba while meowing. It eventually flopped onto the ground in front of him.

_“She likes you! She’s assumed the position for belly rubs.”_

**“Excuse me?”**

_“Theremin would like you to rub her belly. Just let her smell your hand first and be gentle. I’m going to get our dessert sorted.”_

Barba eyed the kitten skeptically, but she stretched out further in response and stared right at him. Guess he could give it a whirl. 15 minutes later he was still petting Theremin and baby talking to her. He decided to blame it entirely on the pitchers of sangria, if anybody asked. Rashad seemed pleased as punch about it. He explained the entire history of the cat rescue he worked with back home, his previous pets, his devastation about the division of pets after his last breakup, etc.

Barba couldn’t reciprocate with a story of his own, but he enjoyed listening. Rashad overshared the same way that Carisi did. One small question or statement or sound of affirmation was all it took to get them to spill their guts. He was even talking with his hands like Carisi did. It felt like déjà vu in a way. He was eating a sweet pastry, engaging in a mostly one-sided conversation, with an enthusiastic participant who seemed elated to just be in his company. You just had to swap the baklava for cannoli, and they could be in the precinct.

Barba couldn’t fathom how he kept meeting these overly cheerful people who seemed to want his companionship, especially considering how surly he was himself. Carisi was almost a whack-a-mole in this regard. No matter what Barba did, he would just pop back up smiling. Except that one time of course...

Case in point, he was popping into his head now even though he was probably back at Bianca’s apartment, thoroughly enjoying the benefits of youthful stamina and the refractory period that accompanies it…. Damnit there his mind went again. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight? Rita and her accusations were really messing with his head.

He looked back to Rashad, who was also enjoying the pastry. It was heavy on the honey and he was licking some of it off his fingers. Barba would usually find this off-putting, but his body appeared to be reacting to something right now. His hands looked strong, with the prominent veins and thick fingers. He’d guess his ring size to be something close to a 12, if not larger. His nails were neatly trimmed, and his cuticles showed that he paid attention to his grooming.

Barba looked back to his eyes and saw that he’d been caught leering. He was keyed up, affection starved and looking for something to get him out of this headspace. A release valve for the tension if you will. They were both still a little drunk, tipsy, but not sloppy. Barba wouldn’t make a play for anything serious until he was assured of their sobriety. But they could have a little fun in the meantime.

He moved his eyes over Rashad’s body exaggeratedly, until they fell on his left bicep. Barba made eye contact as he slowly moved to the edge of his shirt sleeve to lift it up. He recalled seeing the hint of a hidden tattoo there when the shirt had shifted earlier. When’ he’d been on the drums and Carisi had been singing his first number.

Receiving no sign of hesitation or resistance from Rashad he moved his shirt sleeve up and carefully traced over the writing on the inner bicep. It was in an alphabet he didn’t recognize but the script looked beautiful. The black ink had faded, indicating he’d had it for a long time. He made a “hmmm” sound and made eye contact again.

 **“Got any others?”** Barba asked with a sly grin.

 _“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”_ Rashad teased back.

**“I’m afraid that puts me at a disadvantage. I have no such marks to show.”**

_“That is quite the predicament. Any piercings?”_

**“Not anymore.”**

_“OoOoOo intrigue. Care to -”_

He didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence before Barba went for it. His initial kiss was firm but tentative, testing the waters to make sure he was ok with it before proceeding. When he could feel (and hear) Rashad smiling and returning the kiss, he increased the heat. He tasted sweet, like the honey he’d licked off his fingertips.

Before long Barba’s chin felt chafed from the friction of their stubble rubbing against each other. He’d always relished this part of the experience. It was part of what he loved about being intimate with someone. He would happily make out for hours without any cause or reason to take it further unless it was mutually desired.

His hands explored the wide expanse of this muscular form. Grabbing his shoulders, sliding across his back, grasping at thighs and needing his ample bottom. They were both worked up, but it was nearing 3 AM and had been a long day. When Rashad gently pushed Barba onto the bed, he slowed down the pace of the kisses and studied his face thoughtfully.

_“Don’t take this the wrong way, because your unfathomably attractive, but I think we should hit pause. If we started something now it wouldn’t be my best work and I don’t do anything half-assed.”_

**“You’ve got double the ass of the average man. I’m sure even half of it is fantastic.”** Barba joked. It was a terrible line, but his brain was still busy processing being called unfathomably attractive. That was a compliment he wanted to commit to memory.

Shit. Wait. Did his attempt at a compliment sound vaguely coercive? He meant it teasingly. The second he had laid down on the bed he knew he wouldn’t have anything more in him that evening. As luck would have it, his tone conveyed his intentions and Rashad burst into laughter.

_“Yeah, that’s my other calling card after the accent. I eat too much, it goes to my ass, I work out, my ass gets bigger still, I lose weight, it stays the same. Trust me, it’ll still be there in the morning!”_

**“Is that a fact?”**

_“Indisputably. Stay over, I do my best work in the morning anyhow.”_

Barba considered the offer. He was already flirting with falling asleep each moment he stayed sprawled out on the bed. The thought of travelling from Times Square back to his apartment at this hour was unappealing, especially during the pride weekend where cabs would be harder to come by. He also liked the idea of sleeping over. Sometimes you just wanted the physical weight of another person on you, near you.

**“If you’re sure Theremin is ok with it, I think I will.”**

_“I’m sure we could come to an understanding. Why don’t you take the washroom first while I sweet talk her and freshen her water bowl? The hotel provides toiletries, but I had brought my own items, so feel free to use the extra toothbrush or anything else you need.”_

Barba appreciated the consideration of his comfort. He could do with some freshening up before bed. It had been a long night and he was starting to feel dead on his feet. A quick trip to the washroom to use the toilet, brush his teeth and wash his face, and he was ready for bed.

_“There are extra pajamas on the chair if you prefer those, otherwise do what you’d usually do. I put a phone charger on the other side of the bed- I favour the left since it’s closer to the door, but I can be flexible about that.”_

**“I usually sleep on the right.”**

_“Perfect, I’ll just be a minute.”_

Barba snuck in a few extra snuggles with Theremin before setting an alarm on his phone. He’d have to be more disciplined about getting work done tomorrow to make up for all the time he’d allocated to socializing this week. His exhaustion overtook him and the thought of walking 5 feet across the room to put on pajamas suddenly seemed insurmountable. Guess there was a benefit to all those trips up and down the staircases at the venue- his legs and ass felt sufficiently tight for public viewing. He stripped out of his jeans, shirt and socks and crawled into the bed. It was a good thing he’d worn a newer pair of boxer briefs that evening. He’d always looked good in navy.

Rashad exited the bathroom and started turning off the lights.

_“Would you like me to leave on the washroom light or a lamp?”_

Barba had been halfway to sleep when he was asked the question. It immediately reminded him of the dreams he’d been having about Carisi. And the real-life conversation he’d had with Carisi. In his vulnerable and inebriated state he’d let it slip that he still had a nightlight, or something akin to that. “He’d forgotten to turn on the little light, but it was ok because the sun would be up soon.” He wondered if Bianca had a light she kept around just for him…

**“I’m ok without it but I’m so exhausted if you left a light on I wouldn’t notice.”**

Rashad looked at him skeptically and then turned on the bathroom light but adjusted the dimmer to the lowest setting, leaving the bathroom door open a crack. It was the kind of gesture you see in movies but he'd never experienced himself. Rashad turned off the remaining lights, stripped down to his boxers and got under the covers. There were a few other tattoos Barba noticed but he would have to investigate further in the morning.

_“What spoon do you want to be? Or are you a tuck and roll kinda guy?”_

**“I beg your pardon?”**

_“You know like on Friends? “Cuddly sleepers”? Janice?”_

Barba just gave him a blank stare and shrugged.

**“I’m not familiar.”**

_“How is that possible? That series was on TV for a decade and reruns ever since.”_

**“A laundry list of reasons and none of them are bedroom talk.”**

_“Fair enough. So, what’s it going to be? Snuggle bug or are we taping a line down the centre of the mattress?”_

**“Dealers choice.”**

_“Then brace yourself because I’m coming in hot.”_

**“I’ll say.”**

_“Goodnight Rafael.”_

* * *

_Zzzzz Zzzzz_

_“What’s the matter there Sunshine? You look surprised. Did you doubt you could pull it off?” Raven asked Sonny, still looking at him in awe._

_“Ummm, no, I just, ummm, I think it’s the first time I’ve sung that song without crying, so, yeah…” Sonny explained, clearing his throat, hand still grasping the violet guitar pick._

_“Awwwww and he’s sensitive too folks! What about….”_

_Rafael could no longer hear what the host was saying. He felt wild, out of control. There was a magnetic pull drawing him to Sonny in that moment._ _That man needed a hug. He needed some comfort. He could see Sonny standing near the bar now. His cheeks were still flushed from the attention he’d gotten on stage, from the emotion he’d felt while singing._

_Before he knew what was happening, he was standing next to Sonny, eager to get his attention. But Sonny was still dazed and didn’t seem to notice him. He grabbed his belt loop and pulled him closer to his body. Rafael hadn’t noticed how formfitting his jeans were until he had pulled on the little loop of fabric- the material barely moved away from his hip bone._

_Sonny looked to the side to see who it was and then broke into a big smile, dimples on full display. He looked down toward the hand that Rafael had used to pull on his belt loop, then back up to his face. Rafael studied Sonny’s eyes, looking for permission to get closer to him, to lay hands on him. He let go of the belt loop and moved his hand so it was grasping Sonny’s hip. His thumb was gently stroking his hipbone, while his fingertips grasped the swell of his bottom, gently squeezing._

_Rafael opened his mouth to say something but realized the bar had gotten too loud to be heard. Against his personal pride he moved onto his tip toes to whisper in Sonny’s ear. As soon as Sonny had felt Rafael’s initial movements and realized his intention, he leaned down toward him to make it easier. Was there ever at time that Sonny wasn’t putting the needs of others first?_

_Rafael was inches away from Sonny’s ear now. It was amazing how being in such close proximity to Sonny seemed to make the frenetic energy around him fade away. He could still smell the remnants of his cologne, his hair products, the sweat caused by nerves. He wanted to bury himself in his neck, but it wasn’t the time or the place. He settled for whispering directly into his ear- he knew he liked that. That it would make him shiver, make his skin prickle with goosebumps. He did so softly though- anything stronger, throatier, would make his nipples stand at attention and his groin stir. It wasn’t time for that. At least not yet._

_“Do you need to get some air sweets? A break from the spotlight for a moment.”_

_Being so close to him, feeling the energy coming off of his body, Rafael knew Sonny was consumed by his feelings and utterly confused about how to handle them in such a public setting. He instantly looked relieved, grateful to have been given an out. To have someone he could depend on to take charge._

_“Please.”_

_“You got it. Hold onto my hand ok? I’ll get us out of this crowd. Don’t let go.”_

_“I won’t.”_

_Rafael held out his hand for Sonny to take. Sonny reached for it with urgency, linking their fingers and squeezing tight. Rafael gave him two light squeezes back, reassuring Sonny that he had him. He then squared his shoulders and prepared to use his body to get them out of the crowd, away from onlookers. He’d noticed a secluded spot near the back, just behind one of the confessional booths, to the side of the stage._

_He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to navigate them there without alerting others to its location, but Rafael was grateful he had. The most anyone on the balcony would be able to see was the top of Sonny’s head, and that’s only if they were looking for it._

_“Is that a bit better for you? It’s quieter here and I don’t think your fan club has caught on to our location yet.” He was NOT a fan of Raven and her tendency to manhandle Sonny unapologetically._

_“It’s just us?” Sonny said, waiting for confirmation that it was so._

_“It’s just us.” Rafael confirmed, squeezing his hand again. He’d noticed it had started trembling._

_Sonny forcefully pulled Rafael into a full body hug. He held on so tight it took Rafael’s breath away. He could feel that Sonny was shaking all over now. Rafael opened his hands so the palms were face down on Sonny’s back and began rubbing gentle, but firm circles between his shoulder blades. He continued doing that until he heard a whimper and then he pulled back as far as Sonny would let him, trying to get a look at his face. It was scrunched up and beet red from suppressed sobs, only a few tears managing to escape._

_“It’s ok sweets, you’re ok.”_

_“This is so stupid. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just a song.” Sonny said in an adorably petulant tone._

_“It’s not stupid to feel. You know my favourite thing about you is how deeply you feel things, how perceptive you are. I love experiencing the world as you see it Sonny.”_

_He was a sweet and sensitive man, in a field that required so much bravado it was near toxic. For all of Sonny’s confidence and his propensity to jump into new endeavours with no hesitation, he still hated being in the spotlight. Sonny had a beautiful voice that he’d share at mass on Sundays, but he wasn’t in the headspace to perform in public setting, during pride weekend._

_He’d likely begun panicking about being tagged in social media posts, being live streamed on Facebook or having a video posted on Instagram. Sonny may not be consciously aware that this was bothering him now, but Rafael knew how his brain worked. Sonny felt first and analyzed later. And Rafael knew just what to do._

_He began nuzzling into Sonny’s neck, feeling the silky skin beneath his lips. He started kissing the sweet spot where Sonny’s neck met his shoulder. It was smooth and untouched by the coarse boundary of his beard and the soft tickle of his hair. He could feel the warmth of the flush that was still lingering on Sonny’s skin. Rafael sighed contentedly and rocked Sonny back and forth as subtly as he could, knowing he wouldn’t want him to make a fuss._

_When he felt the tension begin to leave Sonny’s body, he started humming a familiar tune, knowing that the vibration would be soothing at first, and begin to tickle his sensitive skin as his volume increased._

_“Rafi that tickles!” Sonny said shivering but making no attempt to get away and specifically NOT asking him to stop._

_“What tickles?” He asked, while moving his hands to Sonny’s sides and starting to tickle him there._

_Sonny was laughing in earnest then, his entire body shivering and his owns hands started moving towards Rafael’s armpits._

_“Don’t you dare! You know what I’m like!” Rafael said, his body freezing as he moved quickly to pin his own arms to his sides. Sonny had managed to sneak his hands underneath them anyways and Rafael let out a high-pitched giggle that only came out when he was being tickled. He was sensitive in his own way too._

_“Yeah, I do.” Sonny said, looking him straight in the eye and smiling nervously. His dimples made a quick appearance before they disappeared._

_Rafael could feel Sonny’s index finger under his chin, forcing him to raise his head towards him. He licked his lips and started leaning in towards Rafael. As he got closer, he began to tilt his head to the side, his lips parted and…._

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

* * *

**Sunday- 4:52 AM**

Barba startled awake. He’d always been a vivid dreamer when he went to bed drunk. He would swear he could still feel the press of a firm index finger under his chin…

Where was he? This was not his bed. This was decidedly not his bed AT ALL. And what the fuck was that glowing door!?! Snoring. SNORING!?! Oh, right. Riiiiiigghhttt. Barba was not at home. Perhaps the snoring woke him from his unbelievable dream? Unusual! Unusual dream.

He could hear Rashad turning over in his sleep. The sheets rustling, the mattress dipping. The snoring had stopped. He was laying on his stomach now, with one arm under his pillow and the other on top of it. His right hand moved towards Barba until it reached his skin and stilled. Barba could feel the barest touch against his shoulder, the warmth more perceptible than the pressure. He closed his eyes to return to his dream…. to sleep! Gosh. To get some sleep. 

* * *

_Zzzzzzzzzz_

_“Do you need to get some air sweets? A break from the spotlight for a moment? If you need anything you know I will make it happen!”_

_“Please Rafi, get me out of here.”_

_“You got it. Hold onto my hand ok? I’ll get us out of this crowd. Don’t let go.”_

_“I won’t.” Sonny reached for Rafael’s hand, immediately linking their fingers and squeezing tight. Rafael gave him two light squeezes back, reassuring Sonny that he had him._

_Rafael pushed through the crowd with Sonny tailing behind him, tethered to Rafael by hand. He took Sonny out of an emergency exit he had noticed earlier. It was like walking into a wall of heat and humidity, the bricks and concrete retaining the temperature of the day. Rafael led Sonny further down the alleyway to a small courtyard with a bench. It technically belonged to the ice cream parlour on the adjacent street, but it had been closed for hours and his Sonny needed some respite._

_“Is that a bit better for you? It’s quieter here and I don’t think your fan club has caught on to our location yet.”_

_“It’s just us?” Sonny said, waiting for confirmation that it was so._

_“It’s just-”_

_Before Rafael could even finish his sentence, Sonny had forcefully pulled him into a bear hug. It sounded like he was panting, trying to catch his breath. Rafael could feel the pounding of Sonny’s heartbeat where their chests were pushed together._

_“It’s ok honey, you’re ok.” There wasn’t much else Rafael could say without knowing what was wrong._

_He had begun to move his arms to return the embrace when he felt Sonny’s hands moving all over his body. Grabbing, squeezing, searching for comfort, for purchase in Rafael’s form. When Sonny’s hands clutched his ass cheeks he was taken aback. Sonny started grinding his hips forward while pulling Rafael’s toward him._

_“Hey, Baby, talk to me. Sonny? Sweets?”_

_Sonny wasn’t responding verbally, but he was responding in other ways. Rafael didn’t know if he should push him off or lean into the touches. It was incredible to be in his embrace, held against his body. The friction from the movement and the material against his skin felt exquisite, but the public setting was not ideal- this time._

_Rafael could feel Sonny’s face move from its spot on his shoulder, towards his neck. He could hear Sonny breath in deep, smelling him. It was almost primal in its execution. Rafael could feel Sonny’s mouth on him now. Kissing him, tasting him, making his way from the crux of his neck, to the column of his throat. Rafael couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, and he could feel Sonny smiling at the vibration he’d felt against his lips._

_Sonny changed the direction his mouth was taking and moved along his jawline up to his ear. The sensation of Sonny’s breathing near his ear was making Rafael’s resolve to slow things down falter. His ear lobe was in his mouth now, between his teeth, being tugged with greater force than he’d expect from him._

_“Sonny, are you sure this is what you want? This isn’t like you.”_

_Rafael had to be certain this was what Sonny wanted. He had to try to calm things down to make sure they were making a rational decision. And he was feeling anything but rational right now. He was very nearly losing control in fact. Sonny moved his mouth back to hover over Rafael’s ear to respond._

_“I'm so fed up of closing up and running from myself.” *_

_“You don’t have to prove anything Sonny. You can just be yourself, ok? You can be yourself with me. You’re safe here.”_

_Sonny nodded to indicate he’d heard him, but he hadn’t slowed down his affectionate overtures. Instead he began pressing soft kisses into Rafael’s skin, gently against his temple, his eyebrow, his forehead, the tip of his nose. If Rafael hadn’t been so surprised, he might have stopped him, if only to make sure he’d heard what he said. It’s at that moment that Sonny paused his movements, loosened his grip and leaned back so he could look Rafael in the eye._

_“What could be more beautiful than you and I falling from grace?” *_

_That was all the permission he needed. Rafael couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of touching Sonny anymore. Suddenly it was Rafael who was breathing in Sonny, burrowing his face in the crux his neck. Sonny had resumed kissing Rafael’s neck, intermittently sucking, biting and blowing on the spots where his lips had been. He’d made his way back up to his other ear. Sonny hovered over it and whispered “Rafi, I….”_

_Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

* * *

**Sunday- 7:14 AM**

This was getting ridiculous. Barba was completely exhausted, but his dreams kept waking him. He couldn’t even blame Theremin for it this time. The kitten had retreated to her cat tree and appeared to be grooming herself. Or performing yoga? It was a nimble little thing.

Perhaps it was the call of nature that woke him? He dragged himself to the washroom to attend to it. His plan was foiled by his unrelenting erection. His morning wood was usually a bit of a nuisance but didn’t get in the way of essential functions. Then again, this was stronger than his usual morning glory. Maybe it had something to do with waking up next to a well-built man? A few gymnastic moves later, he’d emptied his bladder, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. He was planning to get a bit more sleep but despised morning breath.

Barba opened the washroom door and was greeted by Theremin. She meowed incessantly until he reached down to pet her. Her meow was as odd as Rashad had indicated and matched her namesake. He contemplated leaving- perhaps he’d get some decent sleep in his own bed? Preferably without any memorable dreams. Still, that would require more effort than he was willing to exert at this hour on a Sunday. He’d barely had a few hours’ sleep and it had been interrupted multiple times. Once the cat had tired of Barba’s attention, he climbed back into the bed for one final attempt at slumber.

* * *

_Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

_Rafael had been watching Sonny and Bianca. He wanted to know if they were together or not. Sonny had rebuffed Raven’s overtures and Bianca was visibly disgruntled by it, but that wasn’t conclusive evidence._

_Until now that is. Bianca had saddled up next to Sonny at the bar and pulled his belt loops to get his attention. She got on her tip toes to speak into his ear and he leaned down to make it easier for her. Barba wanted to know what she was saying- what kind of line she was feeding him. When Rafael saw Bianca put her hand on Sonny’s hip and start grabbing at his ass he lost it._

_He felt wild and out of control. There was a magnetic pull drawing him to Sonny in that moment. Before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, he’d already descended the rickety staircase and pushed his way to the front of the bar. He’d poked Sonny in the ribs to get his attention and deliberately ignored Bianca’s death glare. He’s sure she’s a wonderful person- but she could be a wonderful person somewhere else._

_“You put on a marvellous performance detective. I will admit the last number had me quite moved.”_

_“Yeah? You think so?” Sonny asked looking elated._

_“I really do.”_

_Sonny’s face flushed and his dimples made their presence known. He licked his lips and smiled again, teeth on full display, eyes twinkling. And then suddenly his brow furrowed, and his body froze. He looked like an animal that had been cornered. Rafael could see him trying to hide his stature, make himself shorter to blend in the crowd._

_“Sonny what’s wrong?”_

_“It’s nothing. Well. It’s just that I saw Raven pointing at me from the balcony level and it looked like she intended to come over here. I just don’t think I can take anymore unwanted attention. I bet I sound like a baby.”_

_Rafael looked over to where Bianca had been standing and noticed that she’d left. Maybe she had ESP? He looked back to Sonny and saw him biting his lip. He was having trouble reconciling a detective being so nervous about a little unwanted attention, but he also knew these things often ran deeper than they first appeared. He had to get Sonny out of there. He grabbed Sonny’s hand and linked fingers with him. Sonny looked down at their entwined hands with confusion first, followed by a shy smile._

_“Come with me.”_

_Rafael brashly made his way through the crowd with Sonny on his tail. He could tell the detective was on-board with the plan by the way he squeezed Rafael’s hand back. He knew he had limited time before Raven or Bianca spotted Sonny, so he pulled them both into one of the empty confessionals and closed the door. It was a TIGHT squeeze. Sonny’s pelvis was pressed directly against Rafael’s back. He could feel movement near his head and when he looked over his shoulder to investigate, he saw Sonny was completing the sign of the cross._

_“Sonny, if I was here to take your confession I’d be sitting in the other half of this booth. Looks like we’re both the sinners here.” He teased._

_He could feel Sonny laughing behind him, his abs contracting against Rafael’s back, his exhalations hitting the back of his head. The smell of Sonny’s cologne and sweat was infiltrating the space. The confessional was dark, and it was nearly impossible to see anything. It was an old school design- all dark wood and with a full door. The only connection to the side where the priest would sit was a round tiny screen that the congregate would speak into._

_“Sorry Rafael, it must be muscle memory or something. I’m actually due for the sacrament of reconciliation though, it’s technically Sunday.”_

_“So it is detective, so it is.”_

_They were both quiet then, enjoying the (relative) silence. That’s when they heard something. Heard IT. The other half of this confessional booth was occupied. And what was happening in it was not godly- although one person kept saying god. Emphatically. From the grunts and the moans he was overhearing, there were at least two men in there. Fucking, specifically._

_Rafael froze- he wasn’t sure if Sonny could hear it as well and he was torn between getting them the hell out of that booth or enjoying the soundtrack until completion. Was it still voyeurism if the people were going at it in a public place? If you were just listening through the wall? Would Sonny be required to intervene even if he was off duty? Rafael could also hear someone leaning against the door on their side of the confessional. From the sounds of it, they were using it as a hard surface to make out against. Apparently, Sonny and Rafael were the only people in the bar who were in the confessional for a remotely pious reason._

_“I’m so sorry Counsellor.”_

_Then again, maybe not. It could be a reflex. It could a sign of a healthy vascular system. One thing it was for certain- it WAS a notable erection being pressed against his back. Sonny was unquestionably, rock hard, against his body. And judging by the heat coming from him and the slow, deliberate breaths, arousal was playing a LARGE factor._

_Speaking of arousal, Rafael was drowning in it now. It had been so long since he’d had an erection against his back, since he’d heard the pound of urgent thrusts. But Sonny had apologized to him and it was important that he pacify the situation. He is the one that got them into this mess by dragging Sonny into the confessional in the first place._

_“No apology required Sonny. I’m similarly affected here, but until this moment that was between me and the wall.”_

_“Oh god that makes it harder.” Sonny whimpered._

_“I didn’t realize that was possible.” Rafael teased. It was also a fair statement- things seemed as rigid as could be._

_“That’s not what I meant.”_

_“Then what did you mean?” Rafael was curious now._

_“I meant it makes it more difficult.”_

_“Being in this space?” Maybe Sonny was claustrophobic and being stuck in a confessional was getting to him?_

_“Not thinking about touching you.” Oh. That was unexpected._

_“You… you think about touching me?_

_The activities in the booth next to them were nearing their natural end. There was absolutely no denying what was happening in there now. Rafael was wondering how they managed to make it work in such tight quarters- the mechanics would be tricky. Wait, what had Sonny just said!?!_

_“I do, I can’t help it. I think about you all the time.”_

_Rafael couldn’t help but moan at that. He could hear sex. He could smell sex. He could feel the outline of Sonny against him and he was seriously regretting wearing pants this tight. And the thought that an attractive, sensitive, intelligent co-worker couldn't stop thinking about touching him…. This was getting dangerous._

_“God that was so inappropriate of me.” Sonny said, as he tried to open the door, only to find they were still blocked in._

_He then turned himself around so that he was pressed up against the other side of the confessional wall. If he thought pressing his ass against Barba’s back would be less arousing, he was mistaken. It was all good._

_“I’m so sorry.” He said again._

_He couldn’t let Sonny keep apologizing. It was his fault they were in there and he was ANYTHING but sorry for talking about the prospect of intimacy with him. Rafael tried to turn around, but it was challenging. He’d finally accomplished it and was facing Sonny’s back. He reached up to massage his shoulders._

_“It’s okay Sonny.” He said in a soothing tone. He could feel a shudder pass through Sonny’s body, and he could tell he was holding his breath. Rafael massaged his way up his neck to the base of his skull and he tapped one finger on the side of his head._

_“Hey talk to me. What’s going on inside there?”_

_“I’m reminding myself that this isn’t really a church anymore.”_

_Rafael laughed at that and he could feel that Sonny did too. He wasn’t religious anymore, but the Catholic upbringing stays with you. And while he had no qualms about enjoying the spontaneity of this moment, he could completely understand why it would be difficult for Sonny._

_“I promise you Sonny, this venue has not been a church for at least a decade. Besides, they had a kink event here not even a month ago. I’m sure this booth has seen a few other things.”_

_“Well thank god for that! I like to believe I’ll have a crack at the pearly gates, or at least the chance to plead my case when the time comes.”_

_“Feeling morbid detective? Surely you’ve got ample time to repent before you reach the end of the line.”_

_“I feel like I’m dying right now.” Sonny whined._

_“What do you need from me Sonny?” Rafael asked, part of him hoping this situation would escalate, another part of him preparing to be rebuffed._

_“Am I dreaming right now? Like for real, is this actually happening?” He panted._

_“I’ll need some direction detective things are kinda getting time sensitive on my end.”_

_Rafael felt he should be embarrassed about how quickly he was barrelling towards the finish line, but it was so hard to care when he had a man literally trembling under his fingertips right now._

_“Fuck. I. God. I need you to touch me. Now please. I need you to touch me now.”_

_“Fuuuuuuck.” Rafael hands immediately moved from Sonny’s back to his chest, searching for his nipples beneath the thin cotton fabric. Even in the dark and with his back turned Sonny looked delicious- his hands were raised and pressed against the confessional wall, making the musculature of his shoulders and the curve of his back more pronounced to the touch._

_“You mean like that detective?”_

_The strangled moan he got in response was all the answer he needed. Rafael moved his hands down his chest, over his stomach and to the button on his jeans. He paused for just a moment, giving Sonny the opportunity to change his mind before they crossed the threshold. When he heard a soft “please” from Sonny he continued moving lower._

_He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. His own hands were shaking with anticipation and nerves. He used both hands to try and pull the ultra-tight denim down Sonny’s hips. Rafael placed a thumb underneath the waistband of Sonny’s briefs, stroking the skin just beneath it experimentally. It was smooth to the touch, which was surprising as his chest was not. He hooked his other thumb under the waistband and…._

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

* * *

**Sunday- 8:26 AM**

_“Rafael!”_

Barba’s eyes flew open and his body stopped midmotion. He looked around and tried to gather his bearings. He was on Rashad’s bed, he was sweaty and his erection was pressed up against the cleft of Rashad’s ass. Thankfully he was still wearing boxers. It was in that moment that Barba realized that he had one hand across Rashad’s abdomen, pulling him closer, and the other one was…. FUCK. The other hand had just breached the waistband of Rashad’s boxers.

**“I… I’m….”**

Barba didn’t know what to say. He’d been having such a vivid dream he must have started acting it out? He felt dangerously closer to finishing. Had he really started rutting against his bedmate? Jesus.

_“What you are doing feels great and I’m not trying to stop you by any means, but I wanted to make sure you were fully awake and aware before the money shot.”_

Every nerve ending in Barba’s body was on fire. He did not want to stop, he wanted to carry on. But he wasn’t going to use this kind man as a human fleshlight or some sort of pillow.

 **“I’m definitely awake now.”** Barba said breathlessly.

 _“Part of you has been up for a while now.”_ Rashad teased.

Barba recalled Rashad making a joke that he “did his best work in the morning” before they went to sleep. That must be why his dreams were so sexual! Between Rita’s near insistence that he put himself out there, her crude remarks about Carisi, and his hot make out session with Rashad before slumber, his subconscious was confused. It was the only reasonable explanation.

**“Kiss me.”**

Rashad flipped over so he could face Barba. He cupped his face in his hand and stroked his jaw with his thumb, before leaning in and kissing him softly. It was sickeningly sweet in contrast to the approach Barba had taken in initiating, but it was appreciated all the same. When Barba started kissing back Rashad smiled and started kissing him more earnestly.

Barba kept his pelvis away from Rashad’s until he’d calmed down enough to manage the friction. Once he was certain he wasn’t about to pulse in his boxers, he grabbed Rashad by the shoulders and flipped them both over, so Barba was laying on his back and Rashad was on top of him. Rashad started laughing and continued to chuckle while he kissed Barba.

He grasped Barba’s wrists and raised his hands above his head, leaving enough pressure to keep them in place, but light enough to know he could easily disentangle from the position if desired. Rashad stopped kissing him for a moment and made eye contact, looking for confirmation he could continue. Barba nodded and Rashad began kissing down his neck, leaving gentle love bites and blowing on them.

It immediately reminded Barba of his dreams about Carisi, which made his heart beat faster. As Rashad started kissing his chest and working his way towards his nipples, he could feel the cool sensation of the pendant on Rashad’s necklace hitting against his chest. He idly wondered if it would feel like Carisi’s crucifix. Damnit, this was a nightmare. He had to stay in the moment with Rashad. RASHAD. He was in bed with _Rashad_.

**“Stop!”**

Rashad immediately let go of his wrists and stopped kissing him. He was flattening his hands against the mattress to begin moving his body off Barba completely. Barba made the split-second decision to wrap his legs around his waist to keep him in place.

_“Rafael we can stop. We don’t have to do anything else okay?”_

**“That’s now what I’m trying to do…”**

_“Just because you stayed over doesn’t mean you owe me anything alright? You know that right? No pressure okay?”_

**“Sorry, I didn’t mean stop everything, I just…”**

_“You just what?”_

**“I need to see you. While we’re together. I need your face near mine.”**

It was honest but sounded heavy for a casual hookup. Barba knew that he needed to keep his eyes on Rashad, remain focused on him EXCLUSIVELY, to continue. Rashad was funny, smart, attractive, eager and the sexual chemistry had been great from the first kiss yesterday- the wee hours of the morn. He wanted this and his body was begging for it.

It had been a significant amount of time since he’d been intimate with anyone. His mind must be used to relying on dreams, fantasy and, umm, “recreational materials” to get by. That’s why he was stuck in his head right now. Yup. Made sense.

 _“We can do that.”_ Rashad said in a gentle tone.

And suddenly Rashad was on his back and Barba had been flipped on top of him. It happened so quickly he almost got dizzy.

_“But you’re in the driver’s seat.”_

Barba could live with that. He let his hands roam over Rashad’s body, his fingers roughly pulling on his chest hair, grabbing the globes of his ass and squeezing, tracing every tattoo, every vein, every muscle. His legs were gloriously thick, likely the result of that bicycle that he had seen in the room. They were both of similar height and weight (although Barba would admit he was softer than Rashad, less stocky), which made physical intimacy that much easier. Barba now knew exactly what he wanted to do.

**“Do you have any lube?”**

_“Yes, but fair warning that I haven’t bottomed in over 6 months and I’d probably need a lot of prep. Just how I’m built.”_

**“I had something much simpler in mind.”**

_“It’s in the second drawer under my pajamas.”_

Barba grabbed the lubricant and the washcloths next to it. Of course the environmentalist would keep something reusable nearby. Nothing wrong with planning ahead.

**“I want to take care of you. Is there anything I should avoid or need to know?”**

_“I was tested 3 months ago, so all good there. I overstimulate quickly once I cum, so let go right after.”_

**“Thank you for telling me. I’ll let go as soon it happens. If you need me to stop say so. I last tested negative a month ago and I haven’t had any sexual partners since. No other STI’s to note.”**

_“Awesome.”_

**“Can I get started?”**

_“Fuck yes.”_

Barba got to work. It had been a long time since he’d experienced the joy of giving pleasure, and he was going to savour it. Who knew when the next opportunity would present itself? He didn’t know Rashad very well but based on the overstimulation warning he figured he’d start slowly and pay attention to any sweet spots. Rashad was looking up at him, awaiting further direction.

**“I’m going to start by touching you with both hands. I want you to watch me. If you want to kiss tap the hand you’d like me to stop using. Or you can just enjoy.”**

_“Oh fuck.”_

Yup. This would be fun. Rafael started by gathering a generous amount of lube and warming it. He was glad that Rashad didn’t cheap out and buy some of the garbage they sell at the drugstore. The consistency of this was perfect.

He started with loose and lazy strokes, paying attention to how he responded to stimulation. Once he was sure Rashad was tolerating the pressure and speed, he used his other hand to begin fondling his balls. He was rewarded with a pulse of pre-cum for his efforts. Nothing like positive reinforcement to boost one’s confidence.

He focused on stimulating the base of his cock, running his fingers through his pubic hair and giving it an experimental tug. If his groans were any indication, it was well received. Barba kept track of every exhalation and every facial expression. The furrow of his brow, the pursing if his lips. His mouth open and moaning with abandon. It was its own kind of song in a way.

He started to twist his strokes downward and tugged lightly on Rashad’s balls. When he heard a whine, Barba had to hold the base of his own erection to calm himself. He was hard and leaking in his boxers. He wanted to cum so badly and had felt that way for ages now but refused to until he’d got Rashad there first.

Rashad seemed well on his way to orgasm now. Once Barba had started massaging his perineum his head flew back against his pillow and he bit down on his own fist. Remembering his sensitivity warning, Barba decided to focus on deliberately stimulating the head more and more with each stroke. Gathering the pre-cum that had collected, spreading it over the head and gently stimulating the frenulum with each pass.

Rashad’s legs started shaking and he tapped the hand that was stimulating his perineum. Barba used the hand to brace himself over Rashad and kiss him deeply. He grabbed his lower lip between his teeth and tugged, opened his mouth fully and let Rashad’s tongue explore it. He knew he was close when he could no longer kiss back and instead was panting into his mouth. Barba moved himself back to watch his face. He focused solely on stimulating the frenulum now. Rashad seemed to respond to that stimulation the most. 

_“YES. Just like that. Yes. Rafael. FUCK.”_

He watched Rashad’s face contort with pleasure, sensed the heat of his cum as it drenched his hand, felt the tremor of his thighs, the force of his breath. It was spectacular. He let go immediately after the pulses of cum stopped, just as he’d promised he would.

_“Can I touch you now? Please I want to make you cum too.”_

**“Pinch my nipples.”** He pleaded. They were his kryptonite and guaranteed to get him there quickly.

Rashad immediately complied and was rewarded with a guttural moan. Barba FINALLY lowered his boxers to free his erection. The wet spot on the fabric was obscene, but it was nothing compared to state he was in once they were removed. Rashad enjoyed this revelation thoroughly.

_“Ugh fuuuuuuck. I’d say let me grab the lube for you, but it doesn’t look like you need any.”_

Barba just grunted in affirmation as he took himself in hand. He was only a few pumps in, and he knew he had seconds left before he reached bliss himself.

 **“Is it okay if I come on you?”** He asked frantically.

_“Yes yes, I want to feel it.”_

Barba came with an intensity he did not expect. His orgasm was twice the length of his usual and his vision began to get spotty. His entire body had clenched and lurched forward with the force of it that he nearly hit the headboard with his forehead. Rashad grabbed his sides to hold him up and provided counterweight to support Barba while he caught his breath and came back to himself. Rashad looked down at his abdomen and smiled.

_“It looks like it’s been a long time for you too.”_

**“You have no idea.”**

They both laughed at that. He passed Barba one of the washcloths and then grabbed the other to clean up himself. He then helped Barba settle on his side, while they both came down from their high.

_“I’m going to take another shower if that’s ok? You can help yourself to the coffee and muffins.”_

**“You already showered? When did the coffee and muffins get here?”**

_“Wasn’t the wet hair a giveaway? I had a shower when I first woke up. Although I much preferred your wake-up call just now. I made the muffins yesterday, and the coffee was put on at your request.”_

**“My request?”**

_“Yes, when I got out of the bathroom after my shower you told me to put on some coffee and get my ass back in bed.”_

**“I did? Was I coherent?”**

_“You seemed grumpy but alert. It was cute. I had no objections. I’ll be out in 5 minutes ok. Coffee should still be warm, and I’m sure Theremin will keep you company.”_

Barba had forgotten all about the feline. He looked over to the cat tree and saw Theremin on top of it. Staring at him. It was unnerving.

**“I’m sure she will.”**

* * *

**Sunday- 10:30 AM**

Barba meant to get up and have a cup of coffee while Rashad was in the shower, but he was completely worn out. He indulged in a power nap and took a shower once he had awoken. He helped himself to one of the hotel-issued bathrobes and made his over to the coffee pot to pour himself a brew.

Rashad was lounging on the bed with a muffin and what appeared to be a crossword puzzle. A pair of spectacles had appeared out of nowhere and they made him look quite studious and cute.

 **“Is that the New York Times crossword puzzle?”** He asked, joining him on the bed. There wasn’t really another place to lounge in the cramped quarters.

 _“No, it’s just something I do for fun with friends. We’re all part of a trivia team, so we create our own crossword puzzles and send them to one another. It helps keep the juices flowing and you always learn something new. It’s nerdy but I love it.”_ He shrugged nonchalantly, but the slight blush gave away his bashfulness.

**“It looks like you’ve made quick work of it, you only have one word left.”**

_“Ha! I wish! This is actually from last week. I know I could find the answer by looking it up but I’m stubborn and it feels like cheating. Although I’m due to receive a new one today so I think I’ll just go for it.”_

**“What’s the clue? Maybe I can help.”**

_“Mr. Harvard here to save the day?”_

**“The muffin man seems to need his assistance.”**

Rashad looked at him with amusement, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

**“So, are you going to tell me the clue or not?”**

_“The purple flower of an evergreen shrub, a popular moniker from the 1970’s and a common texture in cotton textiles. “_

**“Hmm. How many letters?”**

_“Seven. You know it don’t you? Smart ass.”_

**“I have a guess. Do you want to know, or do you want to sass me some more?”**

_“Just tell me, I’ll sass you later.”_

**“Heather.”**

_“Son of a bitch.”_

**“I believe males tend to get Heath.”** He deadpanned.

_“Very clever Rafael. The friend who sent me this is named Heather, I should have guessed.”_

**“The more you know.”** He said, mocking the old tv advertisements. 

Rashad chortled at this response, just as Barba’s cellphone started ringing. The caller ID said Manhattan SVU which was not a good sign.

_“Feel free to take that. I’ll go make a call in the hallway, solidify my pride plans for this afternoon.”_

**“You don’t mind?”**

_“Of course not. Back in a few.”_

Barba took the call from Fin. There had been a string of incidents overnight and he was needed down at the station, ASAP. Barba was beginning to resent Sunday’s. They always held the promise of leisure or an opportunity to catch up on work and he got neither. Still, he knew that he wouldn’t be summoned if it wasn’t necessary. The problem was that he was not near the precinct or his apartment. There were bound to be road closures throughout the city to accommodate the pride parade and the plethora of folks who would come into the city to partake. When he explained the dilemma to Rashad, he offered a solution.

_“Take something of mine to wear.”_

**“I couldn’t...”** Barba was not the type to borrow… well anything really.

_“Here- I bought these at H &M on a whim. I needed to get out of this shoebox for an afternoon.”_

Rafael opened the bag and found a collared shirt, a pair of boxers, some socks and a beanie that he most certainly would not wear.

_“Your jeans from last night look decent enough and I haven’t worn the rest of this. Seriously just take it so you can get to work ASAP. I’m sure you have emergency outfits in your office once you manage to get there.”_

**“I couldn’t put you out. You bought these items for yourself at your own expense.”**

It was a tempting offer though, beanie aside. He couldn’t exactly strut into the precinct wearing a "walk of shame" outfit. Not that he was ashamed by any means, but his shirt from last night most definitely needed a good wash before it graced his body again. He wasn't keen on going commando in a sex crimes unit either. 

_“The entirety of this bag cost me under $30, less if you remove the hat. I was honestly just shopping for something to do. I have no attachment to these.”_

**“Are you certain?”**

_“I am.”_

**“Okay then thank you, this is a big help. And I will leave the hat with you. I’m not a hat kind of guy.”**

_“Yeah, I got that.”_ He laughed.

Barba dressed quickly and put his own items into the shopping bag. He supposed it would just look like they’d caught him out shopping when he walked into the bullpen. This prop was as decent a cover as any.

**“So, I guess I’ll be taking me leave…”**

_“Of course. I had a great time with you.”_

**“Yes, I suppose this was enjoyable.”**

_“I know you are busy, and you clearly don’t get much down time. But if have some free time and you're looking for something to do, it’d be cool to hangout again.”_

Barba looked at him with a smirk. It would be “cool to hangout again”. He didn’t mind being someone’s booty call every now and again. Rashad rolled his eyes at that.

_“It doesn’t have to be about that. I had so much fun with you yesterday. It’s nice to have company you know?”_

Barba looked at him thoughtfully, reading between the lines of what was said, and what expressly wasn’t.

**“You get lonely here in the big city?”**

_“Doesn’t everyone?”_

He made a good point. A little company could do wonders for the spirit. 

**“Would you like to meet for dinner next week? Works schedule permitting?”**

_"I really would."_

**“Well then to be completely cliché- here’s my card. Call me.”**

_“I will. Take care Rafael.”_

**“Happy Pride Rashad.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve re-read some of my previous chapters and found all sorts of editing errors. Sorry! I did run spell/grammar check before I posted them, but things snuck in somehow. My mind just seems to auto-correct for me when I read my own work because it knows what I meant to say. I’m odd in that I compose things on the computer and but must edit them manually on paper (pre-pandemic). I’m trying to improve! I’m slowly re-editing. 
> 
> *song lyrics from Beautiful by Thornley, one of the songs Sonny sang in the last chapter
> 
> To “fall from grace” in Catholicism means you disobedient to God. 
> 
> I make crossword puzzles for friends, family and paramours, often using inside jokes or random memories as clues. It’s fun and I highly recommend it. Consider sending a DIY crossword to someone via post (or e-mail if that’s unreliable) during these times of isolation.


	9. Mulberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day starts sweet but then turns sour. The pride parade may be happening, but the atmosphere at SVU is more akin to a death march. Homophobic incidents, a swath of victims and the implication that law enforcement was complicit. The hits keep coming. What was that adage? One step forward…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ Content Warning⚠️ 
> 
> This chapter contains descriptions of anti-LGBTQ+ incidents. There are also mentions of the angst, fear and discomfort that LGBTQ+ folks face in police settings. It is not gratuitously graphic, but I thought a warning was prudent. The incidents are kept vague throughout the chapter, with the exception of the section titled "2:00PM, Hogan Place". You can skip that section and pick up the story at the “3:06 PM, 1 Hogan Place”.
> 
> Elements of this chapter are inspired by my own lived experiences. If you are part of the community or an ally yourself, you may notice similarities with your own experiences and/or incidents that have occurred in your area. I try to attend to the subject matter sensitively but realistically. It’s part of the journey Sonny and Rafael are going through together and isn't done without purpose. 
> 
> This won't be a "case fic", so if this subject matter is too upsetting you can skip this chapter and catch up in the subsequent ones. Be kind to yourself and attend to your needs ❤️
> 
> 🌈 Sending queer solidarity to all 🌈

* * *

It started with a rainbow cookie. The gesture was simple enough. Sweet even. The day went downhill from there.

* * *

Barba had arrived at the precinct in good spirits.

Yes, he had been called into work on yet another Sunday, but there was a sense of cheer in the air. In his hast journey from the hotel in Times Square to the precinct he'd encountered a hoard of pride attendees. They were easily identifiable by their rainbow garb, poster board signs and flags. While Barba preferred more subtly in his pride attire, he could recognize both the whimsy and significance of this day.

Barba would have never pictured himself walking into the precinct in in his current state. He was wearing an outfit he would never choose and his clothing from the night before was in a shopping bag with the name of a store he would never shop at. It felt uncouth. The H&M boxers retained the stiffness of new material straight from the package and were longer and looser than his usual cut. Although Rashad did have a more voluptuous backside, so Barba could see why he’d appreciate the room. The only saving grace was that he had his own jeans and shoes on.

Barba was so busy musing about his undergarments (and checking out a doppelgänger of a young Bowie), that he almost walked into Carisi. He was surprised to see the detective had been called in on his vacation. From the look of him, Carisi had spent the night at his own place and not Bianca’s. Carisi was wearing one of his newer blue suits (Barba had noticed), complete with a vest, dress shirt, tie, cufflinks and pocket square. It was still oppressively warm, and Barba was surprised to see him dressed so formally. He was curious to know how late the detective had stayed out the night previous and if Bianca had had her way with him…

Shit.That was inappropriate. The frequency, the intensity and the content of Barba’s dreams about the detective were still on his mind. Especially his last dream- thank goodness he’d awoken before it had gotten anymore X rated. Barba had a hard-enough time maintaining his composure around the detective as it was lately. Perhaps that was also a poor choice of words…

_“I see you got the call to come in too counsellor.”_

When he spoke, Barba noticed that Carisi had almost lost his voice completely. It was raspy yet soft, which was an odd combination if nothing else. He wondered what had happened to Carisi’s voice overnight…

**“Carisi, I didn’t expect to see you here. You look… repentant.”** Barba said, having just noticed the hint of rosary beads peeking out of Carisi’s pant pocket. That explained the getup.

_“I guess you weren’t expecting to see me in my Sunday best this time around huh counsellor?”_

Carisi was making reference to Barba’s digs at him the week prior. That ill-fated afternoon where Rollins and Barba delighted in teasing the detective. Carisi appeared to feel akward around Barba in the light of day, sober, and in the precinct. He was every bit a smart aleck while speaking to him, but the anxious collar tug and averted eyes gave him away.

Carisi was right about one thing- Barba hadn’t expected to see him in his Sunday best. He hadn’t expected to see him at all. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fringe benefit of being called in.

**“Seeing you here was an unexpected delight.”**

Barba said it so smoothly, one might assume it was intentional, however it was merely a slip of the tongue. The statement itself was accurate- he was unexpectedly delighted to see Carisi today. Any false nonchalance Carisi was trying to sell disappeared. He beamed immediately upon hearing the compliment- his face awash with joy. A little praise went a long way with Carisi. Barba wondered how far that desire went….

His thoughts were interrupted when Rollins walked into the squad room holding a coffee traveler in one hand and precariously balancing a pastry box in another.

“Sure, by all means, just stand around fellas. No need to help a lady out” Rollins bellowed sarcastically. 

Carisi immediately sprung to action to assist Rollins, taking the pastry box and placing it on the desk and then grabbing the coffee traveler and doing the same.

_“Here let me help you with that. I got it.”_

**“Laying on the damsel in distress a little thick aren’t we?”**

“I’d lose the attitude counsellor I got something in that box that’s especially for you.”

Barba was intrigued. It was unusual for Rollins to bring in treats for the team, and stranger still for her to have brought something in for Barba specifically. How did she know he’d be here?

**“Okay, you’ve captured my interest. What is it?”**

“I think you’ll know it when you see it.” Rollins said, winking at him.

Carisi had opened the box to discover that it was a mixture of different cookies. They were from a trendy bakery and were the latest food craze that people lined up for. It was like the cronut frenzy all over again. Barba personally didn’t see what made them so legendary- but his sweet tooth cared only about the taste and not about the cachet.

Carisi reached in to take a cookie and then immediately withdrew his hand as if he had been burned. Dramatic much? He hadn’t even touched the cookie. Upon closer inspection Barba could see why. It was the only cookie in the box with rainbow chips and it was iced to say _Happy Pride_.

“Hey Sonny! Don’t go snatching Barba’s cookie.”

_“I’m not, I’m not!”_

Having sex in the morning must have made Barba soft because he felt the sudden urge to offer Carisi half his cookie. He’d just looked so stricken when he realized that he couldn’t take the pride cookie. Like he couldn’t believe he’d almost made some grievous error. It shouldn’t matter to Barba at all. It was just a cookie, right? 

“Don’t worry Carisi I got something special for you too. It’s in my locker. Anyways, counsellor, I figured you’d be bummed about missing the parade today. Thought I’d throw a few rainbows your way.”

**“That’s… very thoughtful Rollins thank you.”**

Barba did not have plans to attend the price parade and he was surprised that Rollin's would assume him the type, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

“I’m surprised they called you in Carisi, I thought you were off until Monday. Or wait, did you come here with Barba?”

_“What? Oh, no we just both got here at the- “_

**“Absolutely not.”**

Barba spoke at the same time as Carisi but had used a much sterner tone. He didn’t mean to sound so appalled by the notion of having been with Carisi. Rollins was just teasing- there was no way she believed they had come in together. And even if she had, she would in no way be insinuating they had spent the night together. 

He could tell that Carisi had taken his abrupt refusal as a slight- he’d managed to keep his expression neutral, but his pinking ears betrayed him. He looked as if he wanted to issue a retort but faltered and kept his mouth shut.

_“Let the man be Rollins. Now tell me what’s up with this box here.”_ Fin replied, redirecting the conversation.

Barba was still trying to figure out what was going on with Fin and Carisi. 

“All right, all right, I’ll give Carisi a break. It’s cookies from Fianán, that new Irish bakery a few blocks over.”

_“I didn’t think the Irish were known for their cookies.”_ Fin stated, his skepticism obvious.

Barba had a lewd rejoinder that would have worked perfectly but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. He’d already begun to regret the terms and euphemisms he’d learned on his urban dictionary rabbit hole. He settled on chuckling to himself instead.

“Well they must be, folks were lined up for two blocks to buy some of these.”

_“You sure it isn’t just some hype because they look pretty in pictures?”_ Fin said, still looking unconvinced.

“Why don’t you try one in find out. Last time I do anything nice for you guys if this is the attitude I get.”

_“So it’s the first and last time then?”_ Fin teased further.

Barba didn’t hear much banter after that because he was too busy watching Carisi. Carisi, who had looked so elated to see Barba, was now pointedly avoiding looking in his direction. Barba watched him pick up the Fordham Law stress ball on his desk. He proceeded to squeeze it so tightly that his fingertips turned white. Playing it cool around him seemed to be backfiring spectacularly already.

Barba could feel Rollins watching him, so he took a bite of his pride cookie. And moaned. LOUDLY. It was completely involuntary- the cookie really was just THAT GOOD. Even just thinking about the last bite he took made him moan again! His eyes had fluttered closed as a reflex, and when he opened them he saw that Carisi had abandoned his stress ball and was starting directly at him. More specifically, at his mouth. Barba watched Carisi swallow, his Adam’s apple slowly bob up and down….

“What did I tell y’all! It’s heaven in a cookie. Carisi stop pouting! Get over here try one of these.”

_“She’s not shitting you Carisi, these are damn good.”_ Fin stated, clearly a convert.

Barba saw Carisi put on a smile and pick up a cookie. He watched Carisi bring the cookie to his mouth, take a bite, and chew on it thoughtfully. There were a few stray crumbs on his lips and Barba wanted to brush them off, rub his thumb across his supple pout…

_“Christ, that’s the best thing I’ve had in my mouth today.”_ Carisi grunted out while still looking at the cookie, as if trying to figure out the mystery of how it managed to taste so incredible.

**“The body and blood of Christ wasn’t good enough for you huh?”** Barba retorted, hoping to diffuse the intense sexual energy that seemed to be brewing over baked goods. He also hoped he could use humour to smooth things over with the detective.

_“As far as my palate is concerned butter and sugar will always supersede transubstantiation.”_ Carisi retorted without missing a beat.

**“I think you better whip out that rosary in your pocket Carisi, that’s got to be blasphemy of some kind.”**

_“I think I’d guess a pass on this one instance.”_

**“What about using the Lords name in vain?”**

_“I did not!”_

**“Christ, that’s the best thing I’ve had in my mouth today.”** Barba imitated what Carisi had said- exactly how he’d said it.

Carisi blushed so rapidly, and so completely, that Barba almost felt bad for throwing Carisi’s own words back at him. Almost.

But Carisi had also uttered a sound of protest- a cross between a groan and a deep exhale which Barba was so shaken by it he’d nearly forgotten that they were not alone in the squad room. The fact that his voice was already raspy just added.

Carisi cleared his throat and started scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He kept his tone cheerful and attempted to sound unaffected when he responded with _“I suppose I could say a few Glory Be’s for that one.”_

Luckily, Rollins interjected before Barba could get out a retort.

“I think what we’ve all learned is that I don’t bullshit when it comes to food. I’ll take your apologies for doubting me anytime.”

_“I never doubted you Rollins, I just doubted the hype.”_ Fin replied.

**“I distrust all allegations made without the burden of proof. I can concur with your evaluation now however.”**

_“This was really nice of you Amanda, thank you. I appreciate you bringing in breakfast.”_ Carisi said earnestly. It was more of a whisper as his voice strained further from its use.

“It’s almost noon Carisi, didn’t you have breakfast before mass? Or were you banking on enjoying some giant Italian spread at your parents afterwards?”

_“Nah, there was no time for anything more than a banana. I didn’t want to go to Staten Island only to be called in, so I went to the mass at St. Anthony’s in Manhattan.”_

**“You’re beginning to sound a bit jaded Carisi, why were you so confident you’d be called in today?”**

“Gee counsellor, maybe because he’s seen the news.”

_“I find it hard to believe that a man such as yourself doesn’t turn on the news first thing in the morning. Didn’t you look after I called you?”_ Fin queried.

**“I hadn’t had the chance to catch up on worldly affairs yet when I received your call, and after that my efforts were focused on navigating my way here through the chaos of the city.”**

_“But I thought you lived close to the-”_ Sonny started a line of questioning that Barba had no interest in participating in. He immediately cut him off.

**“Care to catch me up? You said a string of incidents had happened overnight. Elaborate please.”**

And suddenly it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. The teasing, the smiles, the pseudo-erotic vocalizations, all stopped abruptly. Everyone was looking past him, but not at him. And that’s when the sinking feeling took hold of his gut.

“Barba! Thank god you are here. You better come with me.” Liv said, appearing out of nowhere and looking worse for wear.

The other detectives went back to their respective desks- their moment of joyful banter had officially come a close.

Yup. This wouldn’t be good.

* * *

**“I’m going to need you to walk me through this again Olivia, because I cannot fathom any manner of excuse or circumstance that provides a justification for the actions of the officers at the 9 th precinct.”**

“Alleged actions counsellor, we don’t know what happened for certain.”

**“Don’t we though? It seems pretty clear to me. Crystal even.”**

“Be that as it may, I need to know how to proceed here, from a legal standpoint, not a moral one.”

**“I could have been an engineer. Did you know that? I had exceptional grades in maths and sciences but my penchant for arguing was stronger than them both. But no. Instead of throwing my back out sitting on a bean bag at a tech start-up, I’m here. Dealing with this.”**

“I’m sorry Rafa, I didn’t even think about how this might be painful for you. I was so focused on getting this case on the record. If you feel you’re too close to this, if it’s too much in any way, we can work with another ADA. I’m sure Jack would understand if you needed to recuse yourself.”

**“No! No. I don’t want anyone else touching this and fucking it up. I’ll do it, I’ll just be doing it angrily. Can you accept those terms?”**

“I can.”

**“Just- just explain it to me again. Tell me what was said. Verbatim.”**

“Well…”

It was even worse the second time around.

* * *

“There is going to be a media circus. There is no way they are getting away with it.” Rollins declared confidently.

**“It won’t matter.”** Barba said, his words laced with venom.

_“Come again counsellor?”_ Fin said with disbelief.

**“It won’t matter. Once the initial outrage passes and the rainbow decals leave store windows until June of next year, this will fade. The news cycle will move on to other things. It. Won’t. Matter.”**

“How fatalist of you.”

**“Realist is the term you are looking for.”**

_“I’d go with depressing.”_ Fin added.

**“That too.”**

“You really believe that the media will let this go? That the public will take this lying down?” Rollins asked incredulously.

**“Yes.”**

_“Seriously?”_ Fin said with a raised brow.

**“By the 4 th of July it will be as if this never happened to the powers at be.”**

“And what about everyone else? What about the people it happened to?” Rollins prodded.

**“They already know this to be true. It will be yet another thing that they have to carry with them.”**

“I think you’re wrong.” Rollins affirmed.

**“I hope I am.”**

“Fin, Rollins, IAB is here and ready to be briefed on your earlier interviews. Barba hang tight, I’ll need you once I’m done. If you need to get some air you’ve got time for a quick break.” Liv yelled out from her office.

**“I think I’ll take a lap around the block to clear my head.”**

Liv nodded to acknowledge she’d heard him and in an instant, she was gone, and it was just Barba and Carisi. Carisi had been unusually quiet during this conversation- silent even. Carisi’s attention was directed towards something on his desk. Something colourful. What was that? A sticker? How elementary.

Carisi continued to stare at it intently and looked conflicted. Barba felt like he was watching an an internal debate play out on Carisi's face. He was back to squeezing his stress ball again. The little pucker of the beginnings of a frown was enough motivation for Barba to stop watching him and start engaging with him.

**“Is everything alright Carisi? What seems to have garnered your attention?”**

Carisi exhaled heavily through his nose, his jaw was clenched and his lips were still flirting with a frown. He pointed to the sticker and began speaking.

“ _This? It’s an ally flag sticker. Rollins got it for me. Thought I “deserved some recognition” for my commitment to pride month. You know, for being ally of the month or whatever …”_ Carisi rasped, his voice barely holding on.

Barba felt a chill come over him. He’d caused that. He’d started the joke that had led to this action, even if he could not have foreseen it. Barba felt a sudden rage and the urge to lash out at Rollins for her thoughtlessness.

**“I see. I’d have expected her to hold her teasing for a more appropriate moment. Which would be never.”**

_“She said she was going to wait until the end of the month to give it to me, but thought it would be good to put it up today given all the people who will be coming in. Might make them feel more comfortable talking to a straight guy if they saw it.”_ Carisi’s hoarse voice got quieter and quieter, until it petered out. It was hard to discern if it was from emotion or the strain of his throat.

Could this day get any worse? Barba thought to himself. He wanted to fix this, but what could he do? He couldn’t approach Rollin's now without blowing Carisi’s cover. Barba felt consumed by this secret and was desperately afraid of revealing it inadvertently. He’d never been afraid of outing someone before, because he never knew he’d been capable of it until it happened.

**“She is not entirely wrong. Even a small sign of acceptance or safety is something to cling to in a difficult situation.”**

Carisi nodded slowly, still staring at the sticker. His eyes began to look glassy. He tried to clear his throat but then started choking out of nowhere. Barba lurched forward and started clapping him on the back before he even realized what he was doing. Carisi continued to struggle to get air as his cheeks flushed and his eyes watered. He reached for his coffee and attempted to take small sips between coughing.

Barba had transitioned from the harsh percussion of open-handed smacks on his back, to firm but soothing circles. He could feel the warmth of Carisi’s blush through his shirt as he watched it start from pinking ears and make its way down his neck.

It wasn’t until Carisi finally managed to clear his throat and had the wherewithal to lean into his touches that Barba truly grasped the scope of what he had just done. He’d touched Carisi- A LOT. He’d literally jumped in to assist, without being asked, without checking in. It had felt instinctual, yet this is the most physical contact they’d had… EVER.

Barba was mortified at getting so handsy with a co-worker. It was inappropriate. Carisi was only choking on air, or possibly his own saliva, so this was unnecessary. It’s not like he was performing the Heimlich or administering an Epi-Pen. What was the matter with him? He’d have never touched Rollins that way, what made him think he could do that with Carisi? His concern for Carisi’s wellbeing was turning into a damn near obsession.

But wait- Carisi was still leaning into his touch. He could feel Carisi’s heartbeat increase to a gallop, something easily discernible through his clothing. Carisi’s eyes were closed now as he took in some laboured breaths. One of his hands had made its way into his hair in an attempt to either soothe himself or try to straighten it. 

Still. Despite the fact his face was leaning forward into his hand, he was still very much leaning into Barba’s open hand. Barba could feel the difference of the weight on his palm. Whatever mistake Barba believed he had made, Carisi did not feel the same way. Barba must have brought him some comfort with his touches. The thought of that warmed him through and through. 

**“There you go, try to take some deep breaths. Can I get you anything Carisi? Some water? Throat drops maybe? I can pick some up at the Duane Reade on the corner on my stroll.”** Barba needed some space and an excuse to physically disengage. 

Carisi just nodded, clearly not trusting his voice yet.

**“Is that a yes to both?”**

Carisi nodded again.

Barba quickly got a glass of water for Carisi and placed it on his desk. He gave his shoulder a quick squeeze as he left to stop by the pharmacy.

**“I’ll be right back.”**

* * *

**12:03 PM, Duane Reed Pharmacy**

Barba exited the precinct and made a beeline for the pharmacy. He was decidedly NOT thinking about what the hell had just happened or where this “Doctor Barba” vibe was coming from. His frontal cortex was stuck somewhere between dimples and denial. 

Barba grabbed whatever throat drops were at eye level. He hadn't thought to inquire about Carisi’s taste preferences, so he selected something with honey, something minty which promised a cooling sensation and something with cinnamon.

As he power walked towards the cash registers, he recalled Carisi having an emotional stomach and considered the turmoil the day was likely to make him queasy. Barba added some soda crackers, ginger ale and Pepto-Bismol to his shopping basket on impulse. He threw in two travel sized packages of facial tissues- just in case. The peanut butter cups, gum and pretzels were just for him though.

Barba listened to the cashier make small talk with the person in front of him and came to a startling realization. This was the closest thing to a domestic errand that he had ever run for a co-worker. He could remember being sent on errands as an articling student- picking up eye drops or Alka-Seltzer or caffeine pills when one of the partners was in a bind. But that was decades ago.

The cashier eyed Barba warily as they wrung up his purchases and immediately used hand sanitizer after he’d paid. Based on the items he’d purchased he couldn’t blame them- it had all the markings of supplies required for a terrible flu. As Barba walked out of the store and back towards the precinct, he realized that this would be the second shopping bag he’d be walking in with today- the first being the H&M bag with his bar outfit still inside. Who was he right now?

* * *

**12:19 PM, 16 th Precinct, SVU**

When Barba walked back into the precinct it was a zoo. There were groups of people everywhere. Incredibly stressed, very emotional groups of people. The occupants of the bullpen made it look closer to a pride party than a police precinct if you ignored the uni’s with weapons holstered. Liv’s door was still closed so his errand had been brief enough. What had happened in the last ten minutes?

He slowly walked over to Carisi’s desk, taking in the scene. Carisi was the only detective that didn’t have someone at this desk. It was a deserted island within a sea of rainbow clad civillians. Barba sat down heavily in the chair next to it- the one that was usually reserved for victims or suspects. The sudden movement and sound of Barba taking a seat seemed to draw Carisi out of his stupor. He looked up to see who was there and visibly relaxed once he’d clocked it was Barba.

Barba was quickly embarrassed by the number of items he’d bought for Carisi. He felt awkward at the prospect of lining them up on the desk with all the onlookers nearby. Carisi hadn’t even asked for the crackers. Or the ginger ale. Or the stomach medication. Shit. Was this overkill? He couldn’t even walk it back now. Carisi was already eyeing the large shopping bag with confusion.

**“I wasn’t sure how the day going to go for you...”**

Barba handed Carisi the bag, avoiding eye contact. He could feel the telltale tingling of a blush threatening to make its presence known. The back of his neck was getting hot. He cleared his throat for good measure before speaking again.

“ **…so I brought some reinforcements.”**

Carisi had placed the bag in his top desk drawer and opened it slightly to examine the contents without putting them on display. It was as near an act of subtle curiosity as Barba thought he’d manage. Carisi made fleeting eye contact with him as he carefully handled each item.

When he got to the Pepto-Bismol his brow furrowed in confusion, and then softened in understanding. Carisi smiled then. Big and broad at first, until he actively tried to school his features and feign neutrality. He looked at Barba and their eyes connected for a longer pause than necessary.

_“Thank-you counsellor. I appreciate it.”_ He'd struggled to get the words out, his voice a near painful whisper.

**“It was nothing Carisi. I had to stop at the store anyway.”** Barba said, snatching the peanut butter cups, gum and pretzels he’d purchased for himself. Carisi had taken those items out of the bag and put them on the desk toward Barba during his inspection. As if he knew that Barba had bought them for himself to justify the errand.

_“It’s not nothing to me.”_

He could barely hear what Carisi had said. He wasn’t even sure if he was meant to. The poor man’s voice really was hanging on by a thread. Barba opened his package of peanut butter cups and started nibbling on one, if for no other reason, than to have something to do with his hands, and an excuse to stop talking. There was nothing more to be said.

Barba then took the time to observe the scene that surrounded them. There were at least 40 youth in pride getups, many with obvious injuries. That was not the thing which stood out the most though.

He watched as they tried to shed any indicators that they were LGBTQ+ or allies. He watched them take off their rainbow accessories and put them into their backpacks. Other were frantically trying to rub off makeup and temporary tattoos. Some had damp hair- perhaps they’d washed out some temporary colour spray in the bathroom sink?

He turned to see the opposite side of the room and it was more of the same. Folks changing their posture, their walk, their tone, trying to “play straight”. Those whose presentation and ensembles were less temporary looked obviously stressed at not having the means to do so.

They were victims, they were in a police station, and they were scared. Not of what they had already encountered, which was horrendous, but of being in the police station as LGBTQ+ persons. It made Barba’s stomach sink and his heart hurt. It’d been over 20 years since his first pride event and this part of the experience seemed to remain the same.

Barba watched Carisi taking it all in. When someone waiting detected Carisi was looking at him, he immediately squared his shoulders, uncrossed his legs, and used his hand to cover a red ribbon tattoo. The panic on their face was clear as day, and Carisi had certainly noticed.

Carisi abruptly turned around to get up and retrieve a coffee. Even without seeing his face, Barba could tell that he looked absolutely devastated. He was taking longer than required to fix his coffee and Barba wondered if maybe he was taking a minute to quell his emotions before turning around.

Liv opened her door and gestured for Barba to come in. He felt both conflicted and relieved to exit this situation. Carisi was still at the coffee station and didn’t appear to be making any attempt to turn around or return to his desk. Barba left one of his peanut butter cups on the middle of his desk and walked into Liv’s office. Happy Pride indeed. 

* * *

***** 2:10 PM, 1 Hogan Place*****

Barba had never been happier to get back to his office, out of that precinct and away from any shade of blue, badge, uniform, sidearm or other indicator he was in the presence of police. He considered himself a consummate professional. A principled man who was impartial, able evaluate the facts and enact the law in a manner which truly brought justice to victims- or as close to it as one could reasonably get. Barba did not feel impartial today, he did not feel open-minded, he was just flat out mad. Livid even.

Pride weekend brought with it the usual fare. Graffiti over the rainbow sidewalk crossings. A few street preachers spewing hate and rhetoric about eternal damnation. Joe Citizen deciding it was their civic duty to harass pride attendees for having the audacity to live as their authentic selves. As infuriating as those incidents are, they were routine. It wasn’t right, but it wasn’t new.

But this.

THIS.

This was bullshit. All of it.

How can they charge someone with public indecency when their attire was forcibly removed from their person in an act of hate?

How could they charge someone with loitering, when they were on their own private property and place of business? 

How could you charge someone with disturbing the peace, when members of the public were chasing THEM so viciously that they ran through traffic to get away?

How could you charge a minor with unlawful protest? Their supposed crime- using sound amplification without the proper permit. Except it wasn’t “sound amplification”, it was an assistive speech device they used to communicate. One that was commonly used by folks with disabilities that in no way reached a decibel above that of typical speech. Something that anyone who deals with the public would absolutely know. Or ought to know.

How come all those bogus arrests happened at 9th precinct? The very same precinct that had failed to investigate the arsons that occurred at a string of LGBTQ+ owned businesses in their district. They had simply dismissed the concerns and had deemed them “without merit”.

His brow furrowed impossibly tighter, as if the muscles in his face were on a string being pulled tight and knotted. The scratch of the fabric and abysmal breathability of the fast fashion shirt sent a flash of irritation through him- his nerves were on fire. Barba forced himself to exhale the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He could feel the beginnings of a migraine starting and he knew if he let it hit full force he’d be out of commission. Something that was decidedly not possible right now. Barba opened his desk drawer and was relieved to find that he’d had the foresight to leave a sample of his migraine medication at work. He popped the Imitrex and made his way over to his coffee machine. Caffeine should help stave off the migraine, or if nothing else it should soothe him.

Barba contemplated changing into his emergency suit but decided to hold out for the time being. There was every possibility that he would end up sleeping in his office (if at all), and he wanted to keep it available for court tomorrow. He didn’t feel like himself, why look like it? The coffee machine had stopped sputtering, signaling that it was done. He poured himself a cup of coffee, counted to ten and then opened the second manila folder. The thick one. The one he’d been dreading.

“The incident”

While today’s pride parade was the corporatized rainbow fest that it was the most well-known by all- there was a smaller more, grassroots event that occurred on Saturdays. It was a family friendly event with music performances by local queer artists, spoken word, food trucks, yoga and teach-ins which focused on queer rights and the continued fight for equality. It was mixed crowd with kids in rainbow tutus blowing bubbles, young adults entertaining the crowd, and seniors holding hands in public, in a way they never could in their youth. No corporate sponsors, no official affiliation with NYC pride, no aim other than to create a safe space.

The event had taken place in the same park the last few years, and each year they were subject to harassment by religious extremists. They came out in droves to scream profanities, claim that AIDS was a plague brought on by their sins, as well as laundry list of transphobic, misogynistic and racist garbage. The works. 

This year the event organizers had called out for all LGBTQ+ allies to attend the event and help drown out the hate. Allies came out in herds with big banners to block the view of the extremist’s signs, drums and tambourines to drown out their hate speech. It was a beautiful thing really- the pictures had circulated social media with all manner of joyful hashtags. It was touted as proof that NYC was the pinnacle of equality. #loveislove and all that.

And yet.

The extremists had also upped the ante. And they came swinging.

The NYPD had made a public statement denouncing the acts of violence the year previous. Yet this year, they failed to intervene when the violence broke out, even though officers had been specifically assigned to that event.

The officers just happened to position themselves on the opposite side of the park, away from the areas where the attacks had occurred, year over year. It wasn’t until 11 attendees had called 9-1-1 begging for help that officers left their perch. Even then it had taken twelve minutes to get to the site of the scuffle.

They claimed they “couldn’t find it”. A raised stage in a public park that has been in place since 1927- impossible to find. And who did they arrest? The instigators? Nope! The attendees who had been physically harmed. They’d also detained over 50 others, without warrant or apparent cause. SINCE YESTERDAY.

Barba’s stomach rolled as his headache throbbed. He needed to calm down. When his inner dialogue was happening in all caps it was time to take a deep breath. Or a scotch. He settled on both.

* * *

**3:06 PM, 1 Hogan Place**

Barba’s descent into darkness was interrupted an hour later by three gentle raps at his office door. It was Carisi of course. Barba felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth against all odds. It disappeared in a flash, but he couldn’t ignore that it had been present. He then looked up and locked eyes with Carisi. He was not sporting his characteristic smile. Not a beam, not a smirk, not a simper. Not even his characteristic pout.

Carisi seemed hesitant to cross the threshold and enter the space. He looked weary, in a way that spoke to his emotional state and not simple exhaustion. And then it hit Barba- the last time Carisi had been in his office he’d left in tears. Carisi then averted his eyes and blushed. It was not lost on either of them that the last time they had been in this space together it had gone terribly wrong.

Awkward. This was awkward. Barba was beginning to realize just how much he’d begun to rely on Carisi’s cheerful disposition to lighten the toll of a hard day. He had also realized that he’d spent entirely too much time staring at Carisi’s mouth. Barba cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and motioned for Carisi to enter to the office.

It was then that Barba noticed Carisi was not in his typical attire, nor the outfit he’d donned entering he precinct. He was wearing a fitted maroon t-shirt, slender navy joggers, and a dark heathered grey zip-up sweater, left open. He looked down and spotted running shoes and then looked back up with a quizzical expression.

**“When Liv said this case would have us running laps, I thought she meant it figuratively.”** Barba joked trying to lighten the mood. Carisi took the bait.

_“What you don’t like this look? Having flashbacks to PE in school? Afraid I’ll make you climb up a rope?”_ He teased back.

**“You’re really overestimating the resources at schools in the barrio”** Barba responded, without realizing what he’d be disclosing. Carisi’s interest had certainly been peeked but he had the good sense not to prod Barba about it further.

**“Last time I’d left you, you were dressed in your church garb. What happened?”** Barba asked, trying to move the conversation away from his childhood.

_“Well I was trying to be helpful, since I was sidelined from interviewing and all, and I was trying to help calm someone down who was having a panic attack. Did the usual things- having them breathe the count of 10, name 5 things they see, 4 things they smell, that kinda thing.”_

**“And it this explains your attire how?”**

_“Apparently my attempt to help just made things worse for them and once they saw the badge on my hip it escalated the situation…”_ Carisi said petering out near the end, looking sheepish and reticent. Like he didn’t want to say what they did- like he was protecting them. Barba was able to connect the dots. When he did, he smirked.

**“They vomited all over you, didn’t they?”**

_“Went full exorcist. I felt bad for the poor guy, he was so embarrassed. Seemed to feel better afterwards though.”_ Carisi said cheerfully, as if having the entirety of someone’s stomach contents on him was immaterial so long as it made them feel better. Barba could hardly imagine being so forgiving.

**“And you were out of clean outfits in your locker I take it?”**

_“Yup. Got behind last week because I was cramming for an exam and forgot to send out my dry-cleaning. I wasn’t due back at work until Monday, so I hadn’t replaced them yet. It was either my gym clothes or bust.”_

This conversation was easily the highlight of his day. Except for the orgasm of course. The easy companionship of Rashad (and Theremin), and his time at the Candlewood Suites felt like it had happened ages ago. Barba felt content to exist in this mindless banter awhile longer, if only for the reprieve from the current state of affairs.

**“And the hair?”** Barba questioned, nodding towards the slightly damp, wavy locks that Carisi was sporting. He hadn’t noticed it at first glance, but it certainly had his attention now. This must be what Carisi looks like lounging around his apartment before heading to bed…

_“I showered. Twice.”_

**“That bad?”** Barba said with a grimace, already regretting asking Carisi to expand on this incident.

_“Oh ya! Soaked through to my underwear everything…”_ He stated while chuckling, before he immediately stopped and blushed.

The man really did like to overshare. He covertly gave Carisi another once over. The detective’s workout attire fit him well. The pants looked to be high quality athletic wear and skimmed his physique nicely. It was as Rita said- surprisingly muscular legs for someone so slender….

WAIT, did Carisi just accidentally disclose that he was going commando? No… surely he’d have a spare pair of briefs in his gym bag….

_“Thank god I keep all the essentials in my gym bag.”_ Carisi said in a rush with a slightly horrified look on his face. He must have guessed where Barba’s train of thought had taken him. Which may or may not have anything to do with where Barba’s eyes strayed.

**“Small miracles.”**

_“Felt big today.”_

There was that blush again. Gosh.

_“I meant it was a big relief to have what I needed. No small thing…”_ Carisi seemed to identify that he needed to just stop talking. So he did.

**“Alright Carisi, now that I’m suitably nauseated can you kindly explain why you’ve graced me with your presence?”**

_“I think Liv was tired of me being in the way. She told me to come get a status report and make sure you had what you needed and to take as long as you need me for.”_

Barba was beginning to wonder what Liv was thinking. The precinct was filled to the brim when he had left. Why was Carisi being shooed away on a fake errand? Surely there was SOMETHING they could have assigned him at the precinct. Was this Liv’s way of checking on Barba’s wellbeing? He knows Carisi would jump to that task if asked.

Did Liv really think he couldn’t handle this case? Sure, he’d been frustrated when he had spoken with her. He had been upset. Probably more vulnerable than he had in the past. Clearly that was a mistake. He knew better than to let his armour down like that, even if it was just Liv.

Silence.

It had been silent for too long. Carisi looked half apologetic, half preparing to be dismissed. Barba had to say something.

**“I see.”**

More silence.

Carisi was still standing there awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth. His body posture was more stiff than usual. Less limber, but still just as space invading, his presence filling the room. Barba sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. This day already felt far too long.

He looked up and saw Carisi giving him puppy dog eyes, his face awash with empathy. Barba looked him up and down again and noticed that the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt were bulging. That was weird. He motioned towards the pockets when the detective caught his wandering eye.

Carisi looked confused and then nodded his head in understanding. It was as if he had completely forgotten what he was carrying around. He set the items down on Barba’s desk. Still standing, still fidgeting awkwardly. It was two cans of Red Bull.

**“Are we about to engage in a World of Warcraft tournament for the next 12 hours?”** Barba said, eying the energy drinks warily. All of Carisi seemed to perk up at the comment. Like he’d been waiting for a statement he could work with.

_“That your way of sharing your extracurriculars with me counsellor?”_ He said teasingly, with just a hint of curiosity.

**“One can be familiar with a products demographic without falling into it personally.”** Barba rebuked.

_“That so?”_ Carisi carried on, not at all deterred by Barba’s harsh tone. That man was a glutton for punishment.

**“Yes. I’m also familiar with advertisements. This product- It gives you wings.”**

_“I wish.”_ Carisi muttered under his breath.

**“What was that?”** Barba inquired. It was hard enough to hear him today without the lowered volume.

_“I wish it gave me wings I’d fly right out of here. Go someplace good.”_ And just like that Carisi looked forlorn again, which made Barba feel uncomfortable. He wanted the banter back.

**“Am I such offensive company already? Feeling nostalgic for the precinct?”**

_“I’m feeling nostalgic for yesterday.”_

Barba felt inclined to agree.

**“What was so different about yesterday?”**

_“I was happy.”_

**“And today you’re not?”** Barba asked, softening his tone.

_“No. No I’m really not.”_

**“Why?”**

_“You know why.”_

Barba felt conflicted. He both wanted to be alone in his misery, but also wanted a distraction from it. He wanted someone to fight with, but also for someone to be gentle with him. He wanted to feel in control and powerful, while also ceding some control over the unexplainable. He wanted to be himself, but was also very, very tired of it. He wanted Carisi to stick around.

**“Care to channel some rage into legal research? It’s as close to wings as I can offer.”**

It was the best he could do, he just hoped that it would be enough. 

_“Please. I’m dying to be useful here.”_

**“You take this pile and I’ll take the other. Highlight police procedure violations in blue. I’ll mark potential legal precedents in green. Then we switch. Sound good?”**

The blinding smile he received from Carisi suggested that it was, in fact, enough.

“ _Sounds perfect._ ”

**“Alright then, let’s get to it.”**

* * *

They’d been at it for over an hour and his office was sweltering. It was forecasted to be one of the hottest days of the year, but Barba had chalked that up to be media hyperbole, not a guarantee. Late afternoon had bled into early evening and the feeling of omnipresent doom was still circling his office.

He’d fielded a few calls from Liv (no, she didn’t need Carisi back and yes, she was sure), his mother (“of course you’re cancelling again, why am I not surprised”) and the D.A. (“this requires discretion Rafael”). He was hungry, he was frustrated, and he was distracted by Carisi’s pacing again…

The man had not been able to sit still. He’d reviewed the documents while pacing, leaning against a wall or a piece of furniture, precariously perched on the edge of his desk. He never seemed to stay seated for very long, which meant he was a constant presence towering over Barba. It was beginning to get on his nerves.

He looked up toward Carisi in exasperation as he once again was leaning against a bookcase and clicking his highlighter pen nervously. As if he could read his mind, Carisi stopped the clicking and moved his fist towards his mouth. He was biting his thumbnail- which must be a nervous habit- when Barba noticed something.

It was a mark. A mulberry coloured mark located at the base of his neck a few inches above and to the left of his collarbone. The seam of his t-shirt kept it mostly hidden from view, with just the edge visible. It wasn’t until Carisi was so close to him and fiddling with the shirt’s neckline that the size of it revealed itself.

Carisi got up from his perch and returned to his seat in front of Barba’s desk. He dropped the paper and highlighting pen on the desk surface, sunk into the seat, and buried his head in his hands, groaning. Barba was openly watching him now, nervous that the detective might unceremoniously burst into tears in his office again.

Carisi adjusted uncomfortably in seat. Barba was at once alarmed. The detective was marked, he was agitated, he couldn’t sit comfortably, seemed reluctant to take off his sweater and was sent to help with legal research despite the precinct being full of people. His voice was nearly gone and there was no real explanation for it. It almost seemed liked….

**“Are you alright detective?”** Barba blurted out, with the same urgency he’d experienced in his inner dialogue. It seemed to spook Carisi to attention- the detectives head was no longer in his hands and he was looking right at him.

_“Huh?”_

**“Were you injured?”**

_“What do you mean?”_

**“Were. You. Injured?”** Barba asked insistently, immediately frustrated by the deflection.

_“No? Why do you ask?”_

**“You can’t seem to sit comfortably and you’ve been pacing erratically. And don’t think I’ve missed your reticence to remove that sweatshirt or that mark you’re sporting. Is this why Liv sent you here? Did something happen to you? What aren’t you telling me!?!”** Barba demanded, close to yelling in panic.

_“Uhhhhhh…”_ Carisi stammered looking cornered and completely embarrassed.

Barba watched as a deep blooming blush overtook the detective. He grabbed at his chest nervously which pulled the material from his body and made the mark even more apparent. It was only then that Barba recognized what he had seen on the detective.

_“… no, nothing… nothing bad happened to me. I swear. I… it’s just… normal Saturday night kinda stuff…”_

It was a hickey. The detective had a large mulberry coloured hickey- and two smaller, fainter marks that Barba could now make out, as well as a hint of chest hair.

_“…I... I’d rather not get into it counsellor….”_

That statement alone told Barba everything he wanted to know but couldn’t ask.

_“… but I appreciate the concern. Really. But I promise I’m ok. Ya know. In that way.”_

Carisi appeared touched. Embarrassed, but like he really did appreciate Barba’s concern for his welfare. That he’d been willing to ask the question despite the awkwardness of it.

Barba was just mortified. And curious. Damn curious about what shenanigans Carisi had gotten into between the time he’d left the bar and when the detective came into the precinct. He needed something to pacify this moment. He needed to move.

**“Why don’t we relocate to the sofa? I know my lower back would thank me for the change of scenery. I’ve been hunched over this desk all day.”** Barba suggested, already gathering his files into his arms.

The look of relief on Carisi’s face was all the confirmation he needed to know he’d made the right call.

_“That sounds great counsellor. I am feeling a little stiff.”_ He rasped, his voice still in tatters.

Yes, Barba thought to himself, aren’t we all…

* * *

Another half hour had passed and Carisi seemed to fidget less since they had moved to the sofa. The heat of his office was still overwhelming, and it was obvious that the air conditioning had been set to an energy saving temperature. Barba could feel the sweat gathering on his brow and could see it on Carisi’s as well. He was still wearing that damned sweater. It made Barba hot just looking at it.

**“Carisi can you take off that damned sweatshirt, I’m getting hot flashes just looking at you.”** Barba barked. The heat and his growing hunger getting to him.

_“So stop looking.”_ Carisi retorted, not even looking up from the file he was working on.

**“You must be uncomfortable, you’re sweating all over the paperwork.”** Barba pressed on.

_“I’m fine.”_

**“If I promise to ignore whatever “Saturday night stuff” I observe, will you take it off?”** Barba offered, afraid that his earlier outburst had led to the detective electing to keep on the additional layer.

_“I’m good Barba.”_

**“Are you trying to hide your firearm? I know you’ve got one hidden somewhere on your person. There’s no need to hide it on my account.”**

Carisi didn’t respond to that last one. Barba wanted to press the issue but then paused. Now that he thought of it, he’d never seen the detective bare the skin above his elbow. The most skin he’d ever shown was whatever was exposed by rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirts.

Carisi’s athletic wear was formfitting, and the t-shirt likely exposed more skin that his professional wardrobe. If you could call it professional, Barba mostly called it pitiful, but still. Perhaps the detective was hiding an embarrassing or offensive tattoo? Although Barba couldn’t picture that either.

He looked at Carisi again and noticed the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. Then it donned on him. Carisi was shy! He was in Barba’s office in an outfit closer to pyjamas than legitimate attire and did not feel comfortable exposing anymore of himself. Was it possible the detective was self-conscious about his physique? That he’d risk heat stroke to avoid being looked at?

It was an endearing thought. One that Barba allowed himself to get lost in. Until sweat literally dripped off his brow and broke the spell. He furiously unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up the sleeves well above the elbow- a patently un-Barba thing to do. He also undid the top three buttons. It felt unseemly but it was sweltering and Carisi was parading around in joggers, so it felt justifiable in this moment.

Carisi was watching him closely. Not in an obvious way, but Barba could feel the eyes on him all the same. He needed some air. He stood up abruptly and grabbed his wallet.

**“I’m going to stop at the vending machines on my way back from the washroom. Do you want anything?”**

_“I wouldn’t say no to chips.”_

**“Neither would I. I’ll be right back.”**

* * *

Barba took his time using the washroom. He washed his face and ran cool water over his wrists to get his temperature down. It was a trick he’d learned during his childhood, when the blazing hot temperatures would make the tenements unbearable, and air conditioning was nothing but a dream. 

He’d reached a comfortable temperature by the time he reached the vending machines. The same ones he had hidden behind a week prior. It was shocking how much had changed in a week. The Carisi he knew back then was merely a small piece of the larger landscape of his being. There was so much more to cover…

Barba shook his head and purchased the requested items, before making his way back to the office. If a few extra bags of pretzels, candy and chocolate made their way into his possession, so be it.

He dropped the bags of treats onto the coffee table and plunked down onto the sofa, jostling Carisi in the process. Barba reached for his bag of pretzels and began snacking while he reviewed the files Carisi had previously been working on. He could feel Carisi staring again. It looked like he wanted to ask a question but kept stopping himself. Until he didn’t.

_“Hey, are you ok?”_ He asked cautiously, as if afraid of being rebuked.

**“That depends on one’s definition.”** Barba replied. He felt far from okay, but even further from being able to talk about it.

_“You’re all scratched up.”_ Carisi stated, staring at his forearms.

**“Is that a statement or a question?”**

_“It’s an observation.”_ He said, his tone still tentative.

**“Are you claiming to be unmarked?”** Barba asked, with the best of his sarcastic gusto.

_“It’s your forearms though…”_ Carisi stressed, looking even more concerned _“… they look like defensive wounds. What are those scratches? What are they from?”_

**“From Theremin.”**

_“What is a Theremin?”_

**“Technically, an instrument.”** Barba smirked. He wasn’t going to make this easy. He knew he could distract the detective with superfluous information.

_“You play an instrument? I’m no expert but if your instrument is hurting you, I think you’re doing it wrong.”_ Carisi joked. Banter- it’s what they did best.

**“Hilarious. She’s a kitten named after the instrument.”**

_“Awwww you have a kitten!?!” No way. I’d never peg you as a pet person.”_

**“Well you’d be-”**

_“At most, I could picture you with an overly pretentious dog.”_ Caris stated with full confidence.

**“I don’t have a kitten, or an overly pretentious dog.”**

_“Then I’m confused….”_

Barba just stared at him with an unimpressed look, before looking pointedly at Carisi’s hickey and then back at his face, raising one eyebrow.

_“Ohhhh.”_

**“Can we move on now?”**

_“I knew you didn’t come from home! You dog.”_

**“Now I’m an animal?”**

_“I just knew it!”_

**“Because you have ESP?”**

_“Because those are not your clothes….”_

**“You seem confident in that assessment.”**

_“…. and you don’t smell like you either.”_

Huh. That was a curious thing to say. Carisi was sniffing him? Although if Barba was being honest with himself, he could probably pick Carisi’s deodorant, cologne and hair product out of a lineup by smell alone. But that was different story…

**“You keep track of my wardrobe AND my cologne?”** Barba asked, putting Carisi on the spot.

_“Plus, that shirt is from H &M.”_ Carisi continued, ignoring his questions completely. 

**“How would you know that?”**

_“Because I have it.”_

**“And?”**

_“And I don’t think you’ve ever walked into an H &M. I’d put money on it.”_

**“So, you keep track of my shopping habits as well? The tally is really adding up here detective.”**

_“You’re deflecting.”_

**“And you’re not taking the hint.”** Barba nearly exploded. He had no idea where that tone or intensity had come from. He’d be enjoying the banter up until that moment. Carisi hadn’t done anything wrong. He tended to lash out when others got too close, and this felt close. Still, from the way Carisi’s face fell he realized he was out of line.

Silence.

And then…

_“So I guess all that “let’s coexist together” you said last night was a bunch of crap then huh? I’ll get out of your hair counsellor just call me we get the D.A.s go ahead.”_ Carisi looked hurt. Hurt and embarrassed. Barba hated it.

**“Wait detective, listen, I’m sorry.”**

_“Sure.”_

**“I really am.”**

_“You know you’ve been saying that to me a lot lately? It gets less believable every time.”_

**“Yes, well, I’m sorry for that too.”**

_“Fine.”_

**“Look I was just embarrassed…”**

_“By me? Are you setting yourself up for another apology later?”_

**“No, Carisi, will you stop for a minute. You’re not under attack here.”**

_“It’s hard to know with you.”_

That shut Barba up fast. The truth hurt. Carisi let that statement linger in the air before he continued.

_“Look I’m having a really bad day here counsellor. On a scale of 1-10 the chances of yelling at me without getting a negative reaction is sitting at a -12 right now.”_

Yikes. The admission, the tone and the blatant helplessness were unlike Carisi. He must be really hurting. This had to be about more than the clusterfuck that was this day. 

**“Did something else happen after I left the precinct?”**

_“It feels like I’m complicit in like, a thousand little deaths here counsellor. Metaphorically. Every day, one by one, a little at a time. And every single one of them is still breathing. Alive, but not. Not really. Not in any way that a person should be.”_

It was deep, albeit somewhat confusing. It clearly meant something to Carisi. They both seemed to be hanging on by a thread.

**“Solving the entirety of the world’s problems does not fall on your shoulders alone Carisi.”** Barba tried softening his tone and his body language. He tried to catch Carisi’s eyes and show a little empathy.

_“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll believe that another day. Maybe one where when kids haven’t spent hours looking at me like I’m the grim reaper.”_

He wasn’t wrong- Barba had seen some of those looks himself. That looks that said “you scare me”, “please don’t hurt me”, “I just wanted to go home”, “I was afraid this would happen”, or the worst of them, “I knew this would happen to me again”. Barba could feel his own heart constrict at the thought. He'd been one of those kids in the past. 

_“I expect them to trust me, you know? To tell me all about the terrible things that happen to them. The most personal things. And I don’t even trust me, or people like me. How can I ask something of them I won’t give of myself? And what does that say about me?”_

**“Carisi- “**

Whatever Barba intended to say was interrupted by the sharp noise of Carisi’s ringtone. He took the call in the hallway, before coming back into Barba’s office.

_“That’s Liv I need to head back. Call me when you’ve got what we need counsellor and I’ll come pick it up.”_

**“You’ve all got your hands full over there. I’ll bring them by myself.”**

_“I’ll let them know.”_

And with that Carisi departed Barba’s office in rush, leaving him alone with his thoughts again. Barba stretched and felt the beginnings of an itch on some of Theremin’s scratches. How fitting.

* * *

It was an hour later when Barba got the official word- the case was being transferred directly to the D.A. He’d advise him that it was out of his hands, and that the “powers at be” had taken a special interest in the case. There were “jurisdictional issues”. He’d be looped back in once a determination was made. Barba would be infuriated, if he weren’t so relieved to have some distance from this subject matter. Truth be told, he was having a harder time than he'd even let himself acknowledge. 

Of course, this happened after getting into it with Liv over the phone. Apparently, their hands were tied as well, with 1PP taking a special interest in the case. He knows that Liv would have fought tooth and nail to stay involved but even her clout has limits. There had been a swath of other SVU cases that had come in over the weekend that the team would still have to deal with. There’d be no rest for her there.

With his dinner plans already rescheduled and any hope of a relaxing Sunday ruined, Barba set out to make peace with his co-workers. He stopped by a 24hr café to get the team more coffee- something that wasn’t the precinct swill. It was completely out of character but he felt the need to do something positive, something good. He noticed a rainbow cookie in the display case and it reminded him of the one that Rollins had given him earlier. Barba was tempted to purchase one for Carisi, but he didn’t want to provide fodder for further teasing. He scanned the display case and saw the perfect alternative- a lemon bar.

Barba recalled his evening of internet searches into queer culture, and the multitude of memes about bisexuals and their penchant for lemon bars. He knew he had to get one for Carisi. It’s no rainbow cookie, but he hoped the sentiment would come through all the same.

When Barba arrived at the precinct the detectives were nowhere to be found. He brought the bag with the lemon bar to Carisi’s desk. Barba intended to leave a note which said “happy pride” but changed his mind upon seeing the ally sticker. There was no sense in adding fuel to the fire. He then remembered Carisi mentioning that he’d studied Latin in the past. Barba took a post-it note and wrote a quick note before anyone else could see him.

> _Dealing with me can leave a sour taste in anyone’s mouth. At least in this instance it will be intentional. Beatus Superbia._

He dropped the bag on his desk quickly before anyone could see him and before he could second guess the note he’d left. Coffee traveler in hand, he made his way to Liv’s office to start making up for his transgressions before heading home.

* * *

Barba had just gotten in his front door when his phone chimed alerting him to a new message.

> **[7:32 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Thank you for the lemon bar. I needed that.

Barba smiled, pleased that his gesture had landed as he intended.

> **[7:33 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** You’re most welcome detective.

> **[7:33 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** I guess today was kinda rough for you too?

Barba took off his shoes, dropped his bag, and made his way towards his bedroom. He needed to get out of this outfit and into something that would be more soothing on his skin. Today was rough in more ways than one. But should he admit that to the detective?

> **[7:34 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** That it was.

Apparently it was truth time.

> **[7:34 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** I suppose this is where we say that it gets better?

Ha! Barba sure wasn’t feeling that today. How naïve of him.

> **[7:35 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** For some that is true. For others, less so.

Barba stepped into the tub for a quick power shower. He didn’t have the energy for his full grooming routine but the four minutes it would take to get rid of the sweat was very much required. He was surprised to get out of the shower before Carisi had responded. Had he managed to commit a social faux pas already?

> **[7:43 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Copy that.

Darn. That was not the note he wanted to end the conversation on. For the most part, it does get better. Barba had seen some progress over time. Things are always changing- for better or for worse. He’d just have to show him.

> **[7:44 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** Are you still at the precinct?

> **[7:44 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Unfortunately.

> **[7:44 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** Are you tethered to your desk, or can you leave soon?

> **[7:45 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** I’m just finishing up paperwork. Liv said Bronx SVU was sending some reinforcements so I can leave soon. Why, do you need something?

> **[7:46 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** No, you do. Care to meet me?

> **[7:46 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** I’m not good company right now. I’m not sure I could even talk if I tried.

> **[7:46 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** Your presence alone will suffice. I have no objection to you being mute.

> **[7:46 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Are you sure you want to be seen with me though? I’m out of clean clothes in my locker, so you’d be stuck with me in my gym outfit. If I go home first there is zero chance I would leave my apartment again. 

Barba did not mind that at all. Perhaps he could even gently encourage the detective to lose the sweater. He’d have to stop being a crotchety asshole first though.

> **[7:47 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** I can make an exception in this rare circumstance. Meet at the bodega on the corner?

But he wouldn’t start yet.

> **[7:37 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Okay.
> 
> **[7:37 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** Wait which corner? We’ve got four. The precinct takes up a city block.
> 
> **[7:48 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** The one that has the ADA standing outside of it. I can wear a flower on my lapel if that alleviates your concern😝

Emojis? That wasn’t Barba’s strong suit, but he thought it best to take a page out of Carisi’s book.

> **[7:48 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** It would, please do that ☺️ Meet in 5 min?

Guess it worked. He’d need more than 5 minutes to get back to the precinct though. And some pants…

> **[7:49 PM]**
> 
> **Barba:** Make it 10.
> 
> **[7:49 PM]**
> 
> **Det. Carisi:** See you then counsellor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took forever! I work at both a hospital and a shelter which is taking up most of my waking hours. Now that school is back in session my free time disappeared! If this chapter reads as choppy and intense, it's likely because it was composed during my 15 minute breaks during overnight shifts in the ER. I should probably edit this more but I've run out of steam so hopefully the spell check function was enough. I also recognize that earlier in this fic I said the worst of the angst was over- apparently I severely underestimated the angst factor of this chapter. What is a normal fact of life for me can be jarring for others who have a different lived experience. It left a lot of space for some hurt/comfort though so hopefully you'll forgive it. My updates will be less frequent than at the beginning as our second wave hits, but I'll do what I can to make them worth the wait :)
> 
> Note about the Irish cookies: Fin's comments were inspired by some friendly rivalry between my coworkers and I regarding which of our local bakeries reigns supreme. This was back when we could actually go to one, be within 6ft of each other and when we weren't afraid to eat at work because it required removing our PPE. If you haven't had Irish shortbread or Irish Lace cookies before you should. 
> 
> Note about the panic attack reference: this does not reflect the experience of everyone who has panic attacks or every panic attack. For me, if I'm panicking and I feel cornered, there is a good chance I'll get pukey. In this context Carisi failed to see that his presence was more of a hinderance than a help.


	10. Aubergine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba covertly (or so he thinks…) attempts to cheer up one particularly despondent detective by showing him the brighter side of pride in NYC. Between the winding streets, rainbow benches, warm beverages and life talks, Barba's denial begins to unravel. Could his newfound interest in Carisi's wellbeing mean something more? And what was the detective thinking about all of this....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is MUCH less heavy than the last one. We all needed a break yes? I know I sure did. There is a smattering of light angst but it’s mostly feels of the hurt/comfort variety. 
> 
> I hit a major wall in finishing this chapter. I got an idea one night and foolishly wrote a chapter that is much further ahead into the story line and it became difficult to bridge the gap between the them. To get out of the writers block the narration bounces between Barba's and Carisi's viewpoint. It may be confusing or delightful- I'm not entirely sure I like it but here it is anyways. I wrote most of this during my breaks at work so it may be a bit choppy. C'est la vie! 
> 
> ⚠️If you skipped the previous chapter due to the content warning ⚠️The only important thing to know is that Rafael and Sonny were both called to the precinct to deal with a series of homophobic incidents that had occurred across the city and the heightened emotions led to some tense moments between them. Rafael felt the need to pacify the situation and reached out to Sonny and arranged to meet up after their shifts. Sonny did not know the purpose of the visit but agreed anyways.

“What am I doing?” Barba said aloud while staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d been so caught up texting with Carisi that he had not fully processed what he’d committed himself to. And there wasn’t much time to process it now as he was due to meet the detective within 10 minutes.

He could make the argument that it was in his best interest to have ~~his favourite detective~~ the detective in better spirits. Surely it was a professional obligation to ensure his co-workers wellbeing, right? There was nothing strange about that… Barba could show empathy just as much as the next person. Ok, so that wasn’t entirely true. But he did appreciate a comfortable work environment, and today had been flat out uncomfortable.

~~Sonny~~ Carisi was proficient in his work and steadfast in his beliefs. If he remained so melancholy, so utterly despondent, his police work would suffer. And that meant Barba would suffer… because of the lower quality police work. Certainly not because the thought of Carisi’s tear-filled eyes and quivering chin were too much to bear. And ABSOLUTELY not because Carisi had been embedded in his subconscious for an entire week. Infiltrated his dreams….

Barba heard a police siren outside of his window and it jolted him back into the present. Clothes. Barba needed to put on some clothes. He was now down to 7 minutes before Carisi was expecting him. Shit.

He scampered back into his bedroom and opened his closet. It was full of suits, dress shirts, sport coats and ties. This would not do- Carisi was still in athletic wear and it was much too hot outside for his formal attire. Besides, they’d already look like an odd pair based on the age difference alone. He didn’t want to draw further attention to them, as Carisi was sure to turn a few heads on their journey, jogging pants or not.

He moved to his dresser and opened the top drawer- he may as well start with the foundation garments and let his underwear set the tone. Barba was still feeling a bit high-strung which always made his skin more sensitive to touch. He opted for a pair of silk sport trunks.

They were a deep aubergine colour and had been a birthday gift from Rita. She’d included them in a gift bag with a pricey bottle of champagne and a rather crude birthday card. Well, the card itself was standard issue, it was just the handwritten message that was in poor taste [“ _A toast to your love of eggplants Rafael ;) Hope your next rotation around the sun is full of them”_ ].

He both grimaced and smirked at the memory. She was really something else. He slipped them on even though the colour was out of season as their breathability and softness did not compare to anything else he owned. Besides, no one would be looking at them tonight…

Ok this was getting ridiculous; he was just going to meet up with Carisi who was basically wearing pajamas while sporting a hickey. _Hickeys_. Barba quickly put on whatever socks he could find (or the first white pair that had a purple accent, because obviously) and he had just thrown open the next drawer when he heard his text chime go off. Shit- was he already late?

> **_[7:58 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Rollins noticed the mark on my neck so her and Fin are busy giving me a hard time. I’m going to be late. We can reschedule if you’ve got somewhere to be?_

Barba smirked. Of course Carisi wouldn’t admit to sporting hickeys, even via text message.

> **_[7:58 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _I believe there were marks. Plural. Is this your polite way of declining Carisi?_

> **_[7:58 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _No._

> **_[7:58 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _Absolutely not._

> **_[7:58 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I want to see you._

Well. That was… direct. Even for Carisi.

Barba watched three dots start and stop on his screen while he sifted through his jeans. Carisi had a penchant for putting his foot in his mouth when flustered and Barba was ready to wait and see how this played out. He continued to peruse his limited denim options until he settled on a pair with light grey wash. Truth be told they were a bit snug for sitting but definitely made the most of his shape while standing. He pulled on the soft jeans and exhaled a happy sigh. He was infinitely more comfortable than he had been in what he’d worn to the precinct earlier in the day.

The three dots had stopped which meant Carisi had either succumbed to further teasing from Rollins and Fin, or he had thought better of whatever he wanted to say. Barba mulled over his response while examining his casual shirt options. His underarms still felt chaffed from whatever god-awful fabric that H&M shirt was made of. Barba was having difficulty orienting himself in place and time. Had his dalliance with Rashad really been less than 12 hours ago?

Barba settled on a white V-neck Henley that hugged his arms nicely. It was casual enough that it would blend with Carisi’s attire but flattering enough that he would dare to don it in public. The bamboo cotton blend was soft and exceedingly breathable, yet opaque enough that his nipples would not show through the pale material. He’d learned the hard way he needed to be careful with lighter fabric in light colours. The scratches left by Theremin would be somewhat visible, but they’d faded throughout the day so could get away with rolling up the sleeves if it got too hot or roll them down if the air cooled. Barba’s phone chime interrupted his dressing process again.

> **_[8:02 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I just don’t want to hold you up in case you had plans after. Later._

The three dots returned. It would appear Carisi was destined to turn a simple miscommunication into a catastrophe. He couldn’t fathom whatever Carisi’s next text would be, but he was certain it would only prove awkward. He figured he better interject before this situation took a tumble further. After all, the detective had had a rough day. Maybe some teasing would redirect him?

> **_[8:03 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _I’m not sure what sort of frat you belong to over at Fordham Carisi but no, I do not have two sets of plans for after 8 pm on a Sunday. My appetite for double-booking has long since retired._

The three dots stopped, and Barba smirked to himself. He’d opened his front hall closet and selected a pair of vintage Gucci sneakers to complete his ensemble. They were stylish enough that he saw fit to own them, and comfortable enough for a long walk. He’d really prefer to wear a dressier shoe, but his casual shoe options were limited and the thought of wearing his solitary pair of sandals in NYC physically pained him. Those were for the beach or bust. Barba gave himself another onceover in the mirror. He was officially ready to go.

> **_[8:04 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Barba:_ ** _I’ll be at the meeting spot by 8:15 pm. Will Rollins and Fin have freed you from their clutches by then?_
> 
> **_[8:04 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _God willing._

> **_[8:04 PM]_ **
> 
> **_Det. Carisi:_ ** _I will see you then counselor._

* * *

_This is stupid. I look stupid._ Barba thought to himself, as he waited for Carisi on the street corner holding a hot beverage in each hand. In 30 **°C** heat no less.

In retrospect, he should have asked for a drink tray. There was something about double fisting coffee cups on a street corner that felt very undignified. If he had a tray, he could use his free hand to hold his cellphone, read some emails, draft a response. _Ouch._ His left hand was smarting with the temperature of that cup. Whatever carboard sleeve the barista had put on did little to alleviate the scalding temperature of Carisi’s tea. The tea Barba had purchased for the detective in lieu of coffee, to soothe his rough throat and diminished spirits.

_This is what you get for being soft._ Barba’s internal dialogue supplied. _What is the matter with you?_

Not that there was anything inherently wrong with making a stop at a café to pick up a tea for a colleague. A specific tea café that he knew would have a ginger-cinnamon-chamomile tea blend that worked magic on the vocal cords. They also had a killer pour-over coffee so it was a win-win scenario. Barba thought he saw Carisi rounding the corner and immediately flushed, which he’d blame on the oppressive heat.

Deodorant? He’d forgotten to put on deodorant after his shower. Fantastic.

Barba lamented his lack of drink tray again. He didn’t know where to look. Should he just whip out his patented smirk and wait for Carisi to falter at the sight of it? He did so enjoy the bashful expressions he’d get in return. Confidence- Barba had it in spades. Time to put it to use! The detective had just locked eyes with him and was sporting an expression he couldn’t quite make sense of….

* * *

Sonny was confused.

Utterly and completely confused. He could not make heads or tails of Barba lately. He had thought he’d finally had the ADA figured out- well mostly figured out anyways. Then pride month happened and suddenly every thought he had about the ADA had gone out the window. Barba had been hot and cold with him, but he’d also been empathetic, patient, funny, and charming. But he’d also been rude, angry, and brash. Plus he kept staring at him. Like REALLY staring. Not leering, not appraising. Just staring. Sonny wasn’t sure what it all meant. It felt different than the other looks he used to shoot his way.

In fact he was giving him a look right now! Hidden behind the smirk, lingering in his eyes, there was a look. Actually, maybe Sonny knew this one, it was like the expression he made when he wanted you to get on with it.

Oh shoot.

How long had he been standing here not talking? And why hadn’t Barba said anything yet!?!

**“Cat got your tongue Carisi?”**

His smirk had returned to the one he used for teasing. Something about his posture was off though. What was it?

**“I believe the social convention dictates that you gracefully accepted gifts as they are offered to you”** Barba said with a lilt.

What? That didn’t make any sense. What gift? Sonny still couldn’t figure out what was so different about Barba. Seriously something was off, he had almost walked right past the man…

Sonny suddenly jumped as if he’d received a static shock. Barba had gotten close enough to knock elbows with him and the physical contact was entirely unexpected. Although it shouldn’t be considering Sonny had been watching him the entire time. Blessedly, if not awkwardly, he had remained silent throughout the whole thing.

Hot. Something hot was being pressed into his hand what the F&*%...

Sonny almost batted away the hot coffee cup that Barba had been gently pressing into his hand. The lawyer was looking at him with one raised eyebrow now. That’s what was different about his posture! His stance was strained because he was holding two coffee cups.

He really should have asked for a drink tray. Although perhaps any mode of convenience was beyond Barba and whatever fancy place he’d gotten this from. He doubted the man had ever worked in food service or been responsible for coffee runs at work. He wasn’t constantly the new guy like himself. Sonny didn’t recognize the logo or the scent of this brew. It was a far cry from the precinct coffee that was for sure.

Another odd look. Sympathy. Or something akin to pity. Sonny did not like that look either. Why was Barba giving it to him? And why was he still not speaking? Maybe he should have gone straight home to bed after leaving the precinct. It’s what he had been dreaming of all day. His bed, his couch, hell even the ottoman would do in a pinch. Barba’s mouth was opening, words were coming out. What was he saying? And why was there a grimace now?

**“Your throat is still causing you great discomfort I see”** Barba said with pity/ a grimace/ who the fuck knows what expression.

Sonny found that words still evaded him, but he could feel his head moving. He hoped he was nodding. Great discomfort was an understatement. His throat was killing him. Between singing with no warmup, a night of yelling across the table to be heard in the bar… that other thing that happened… and then this day. This awful day where he constantly suppressed the urge to scream in frustration.

Barba was still looking at him strangely. This expression was something like concern? What? Now he was nodding toward the drink in Sonny’s hand- the one he’d nearly batted away and spilled all over the sidewalk. His mouth was moving- Barba’s that is. More words coming out of his mouth that he’d failed to pay attention to. He should probably start. Where had he left of? Something about great discomfort…

**“… it helps trust me”** Barba finished, nodding toward the cup in Sonny’s hand.

Sonny had no idea what Barba had said to him but got the impression he was supposed to try the beverage in his hand. He carefully brought it to his lips and took a cautious sip, hopeful that the temperature wouldn’t be hot enough to burn that hanging skin behind his front teeth. What was that called again? The frenum?

That’s right. He remembers learning the term and giggling to himself because it sounded similar to frenulum and sometimes he had the maturity of a 13-year-old. He even had a little saying, “if the frenum touches the frenulum you are using too much teeth”. As if he had any idea if that were true or not at the time…

Sonny felt, more than heard himself groan. More of a strangled moan actually but that was neither here nor there.

**“There you are detective; I trust it has lived up to its promise?”** Barba finished, looking hopeful but smug.

Sonny tried for a smile, held the cup up as if to cheers, and took another sip. This time he actually paid attention to the taste. The drink was hot, just shy of burning, and smooth. There was a sweetness to it that coated his throated- honey he was pretty sure. Something floral, something spicy, something a bit earthy maybe? It was both familiar and unnameable, but delicious. It was possible it was a placebo effect, but Sonny would swear it was already helping his throat. He was grateful for the gesture and touched that Barba had thought to do this. That Barba picked something especially for him, to make him feel better…

**“I was thinking we could just walk, provided your injuries are limited to the broken capillaries on your neck. You don’t need to speak. Today has me at a loss for words as well. Are you on board with joining me for a stroll?”** Barba asked, obviously watching him and trying to read his expression and gauge his interest. If he didn’t know him better, he’d say he looked nervous.

Sonny found he still couldn’t assemble enough words in his mouth to make a sentence, so he kept quiet. His sudden muteness wasn’t entirely unexpected, he’d experienced this before after a particularly egregious workday. But it had been years and he thought he’d developed better coping skills. Alas, it would appear, speech would evade him. So he simply nodded his assent.

Barba smiled. It was small and presented so quickly it was almost impossible to clock. Like a quiver or a wave across his lips. Fleeting, but there. It made Sonny feel good. Barba was including him in something, completely unprovoked. He’d had a hard day too and he wanted to de-stress by going for a walk AND he wanted Sonny to join him. He wasn’t sure what it meant but he knew whatever it was, it was something good. He’d happily follow Barba around the city if it meant this feeling could linger a bit longer.

**“Follow me detective”** Barba said as he immediately started walking ahead of him. Sonny had no choice but to obey.

* * *

Sonny had no idea what time it was, how long they’d been walking, or what route they had taken to get here. All he knew is that they were in the village, sitting on a bench together, and that Barba was wearing purple underwear. He’s not sure he will ever stop blushing.

He’d followed Barba for ages, trailing behind him the entire time. Mostly because he had no clue where they were going, but also because Barba walks shockingly fast. Like REALLY fast. If he’d been able to talk, he’d have called him the energizer bunny. Well, if he’d been able to talk AND he wanted to see Barba give him one of those epic scowls.

Which, if he’s being honest, he kind of does. The lawyer is almost always effortlessly cool and composed. The only time you can tell he’s a human capable of feelings is when he’s angry. Or annoyed. Or under caffeinated. Sometimes he likes to use legal jargon extraneously just to see that tendon in his jaw clench. All in good fun and usually when Barba’s been short with Sonny recently and deserves to have his feathers ruffled.

Playing lawyer- it was a sure-fire way to irk Barba. It’s kind of their thing. Not quite the workplace dynamic Sonny was hoping for when he came to Manhattan, but he’d take it. He had dreamed of having friends at work. Not like just colleagues or anything or “work friends”, but like _friends_ friends. The kind where you help each other move, and you can easily joke with their spouses about their partners’ idiosyncrasies at the Christmas party, or where they invite you to their daughters first communion. Those kinds of friends. Frankly at this point he’d settle for the kind of friends who call you by the name that you ask them to. That’d be enough right now. It’d be everything really…

Wait did Barba just say something? Or make some kind of sound…. There is a sound. What IS that noise? Is that a nose whistle? IT IS. He didn’t seem sick. Maybe the counsellor has allergies? Sonny fights the urge to giggle. Something about an uncooperative nostril makes Barba seem more human. Fallible even.

Sonny looked toward Barba again, taking in the sight of him. Barba’s henley shirt pulled tightly across his physical form, outlining the shape of him. He looked different than he did in his suits. Softer somehow, yet also more muscular. Sonny had been staring at his forearms longer than was decent. And he knows that he was because Barba had rolled down the sleeves at one point to hide the scratch marks. They were barely visible now, but he must have assumed Sonny was staring and judging him, and there was a faint flush to his cheeks.

And Sonny would swear he could almost smell him! Not cologne or aftershave or whatever fancy ass products the counsellor might use. Like his natural smell. His sweat. It wasn’t offensive but it was throwing him off. Then again everything about this was throwing him off. Sonny must be a shit detective this week because had no idea what the fuck was going on. But dammit he was happy to play along if it meant he got the inside scoop on the real Barba.

Sonny found outside of work, he really liked being around him. Okay inside of work too, but he liked this secret other Barba. The one with long-standing friends, the one who goes to cool events, and mingles with strangers. The Barba that let a cat anywhere near his person. The one who wears sexy purple underwear….

Sonny internally chastised himself again. For noticing the underwear, for remembering that he noticed the underwear, and for continuing to fixate on the underwear. Did Barba always match his underwear to his socks? Sonny had noticed Barba’s socks had purple accents and that couldn’t have been a fluke could it?

Now he was going to blush every time he noticed the man’s socks. And that would be a problem because he tended to notice them a lot. They were always a little bit outlandish compared to the standard grey/navy/black rotation Sonny had.

He’d have to be wearing boxer briefs, right? Sonny had a hard time picturing the counsellor in any old baggy pair of Hanes. Maybe the reason he couldn’t picture it is because HE SHOULDN’T BE PICTURING THIS AT ALL. Sonny wished he’d never noticed the sliver of purple that had been exposed when Barba had leaned forward to tie his shoe. The counsellor didn’t deserve to be leered at. Especially when he was doing a nice thing.

It was a really nice thing actually. They’d made one stop along their journey, for another coffee (obviously) and a bathroom break. Barba had insisted on buying Sonny another beverage and would not accept any payment. Sonny had still been in a daze and made a half-hearted attempt to grab for his wallet before he realized he’d left it in his suit jacket at the precinct and he only had cash in his pocket. This place only accepted plastic. He would have offered to pay using his smartwatch but figured Barba would have given him an eyeroll so profound he’d strain a muscle.

Sonny could feel those same eyes staring at him again. Had he started talking to himself? Or was he being too obvious with his thoughts? Maybe he started staring first and Barba was just returning it. His mouth had quirked up… he was saying something…

**“Carisi you’re making me seasick.”**

Huh?

And suddenly there was contact.

Barba knocked his leg against Sonny’s. They were touching, thigh to thigh. Sonny’s leg had been nervously bouncing up and down so feverishly that it was making the bench move. Barba had been attempting to get his body to still. It was an effective move on Barba’s part- he’d stopped immediately and let out a little gasp of surprise. Sonny hadn’t realized they were seated so close to one another but now it was painfully clear. 

Had they been sitting so close the entire time? They must have been on the bench for a while because the sun had fully set, and Sonny would swear there had been some vestiges of daylight left when they first sat down.

Sonny could recall the varied sights they’d seen sitting here. Despite being unusually mute he’d been drinking it all in. It was a grab bag of different folks out in the street as the festivities of the weekend wound down. They were located a bit off the main drag but close enough to a subway entrance to see the comings and goings.

There were the throngs of youth, maybe high school aged, all decked out in every iteration of rainbow attire imaginable. Full of energy and spouting every catch phrase from RuPaul’s Drag Race, etc. Then there were the couples, of all ages, strolling by slowly and looking enamoured with one another. Walking hand in hand (or hand in back pocket on more than one occasion). A move Sonny would have to try out sometime.

Then there were the smaller groups of friends who were stumbling about and laughing closely together, clearly tipsy but no worse for wear. Chatting loudly about their weekend shenanigans. Sometimes they had accents which clearly indicated they were visiting from out of state and Sonny wondered how much effort went into attending pride. Did they make a road trip out of it? Spend a day on an Amtrack in anticipation? Or did they have the means to fly into the city for a weekend jaunt? No matter the method they seemed to be having a good time. Just like Sonny and Barba had, last night.

The same Barba, who had invited him out for a walk, and forced them onto this bench. Almost literally. Out of nowhere Barba had suddenly stopped walking to take a seat on the bench and Sonny’s steps faltered. When he’d looked at Barba curiously, Barba had simply looked towards Sonny’s ass and said, _“park it Carisi”_.

So, he did. If there was one thing Sonny knew how to do best it was following a direct order. They’d been “parked” in that spot ever since. And while Sonny had been watching the crowds, Barba had been watching him. Not the entire time, but frequently enough that Sonny could clock that he was under surveillance. Barba may be subtle, but Sonny was a detective. His ability to appear calm and distracted while remaining hypervigilant to his surroundings were uncanny. He was also acutely aware that he was in the village, during the pride weekend, sitting next to a colleague, in full view of the general public. And that the general public included officers from various precincts who had been assigned to public safety detail.

But that wasn’t what caught Barba’s eye. It was Sonny’s reactions to all the cute moments that he was looking for. Whenever something sweet happened, like the 80 something year old couple holding hands and walking together with their rainbow canes, Barba would look over to make sure Sonny had caught it.

Or when something funny happened, like the couple who looked hopelessly in love but also incredibly drunk. They kept bonking their heads together while trying to take a “good” selfie that had both their faces in the photo. They also kept teasing one another, one person apparently “kept doing that drunk face where they look like they were smelling something bad”, while the other “needed to stop half blinking because it made them look wasted”. He could tell that Barba was using his peripherals to see if Sonny was laughing or holding back laughter.

Which he totally was, because it was friggin adorable and Sonny misses being that drunk and carefree and having a partner who you’ve been with long enough that you know all their drunk faces, but also love deeply enough that you can tease one another about it without it becoming “a thing”. And the person was right, their partner was totally making a face like they smelled something bad. Thankfully the only smells he’d encountered while on the bench were cotton candy vape fumes, a hint of cannabis, a smattering of colognes, and Barba.

Barba. He’d knocked his leg against Sonny’s again. It seems in the time he’d been lost in his thoughts he’d started shaking it again, making the bench rock. Sonny stilled and made eye contact to acknowledge he’d heard him.

**“Better.”** Barba said with a smirk.

Sonny smiled back at him and then experienced a full body shiver. He had no idea what caused it, he wasn’t cold, maybe one of those involuntary movements you make when a breeze catches your neck the wrong way?

**“I apologize detective, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”** Barba said as he began inching his body toward the far reach of the bench. Sonny’s leg felt cold in his absence. Sonny noticed Barba’s body posture close in on itself as he glanced at his watch, as if checking the time. He panicked at the thought that Barba might take off and give him the cold shoulder.

_“No…”_

Sonny just managed to get out. His heartbeat suddenly so rapid he could feel it in his ears.

_“…you didn’t….”_

He managed to croak out, his voice still gruff.

_Jesus_.

Between crying in Barba’s office; elling at him in the middle of a busy bar; whatever the hell he’d done on that hour-long phone call (which still evading his memory); and what had happened at the precinct today, a guy could really get the wrong idea. And truth be told Sonny wasn’t entirely sure what that idea would even be, but he knew if Barba could find a way to make it negative, he would. Whatever was happening tonight was confusing, but it was nice, and Sonny didn’t want it to stop. 

_“…stay.”_

* * *

Barba’s insides clenched the instant that Carisi shivered next to him. He could feel the detectives body tense and he watched goosebumps break out across his neck. He had been flushed for a while but Carisi never did fully take off that sweatshirt.

_“No…”_

The detective stuttered out, surprising Barba.

_“… you didn’t….”_

The detective continued, stopping to clear his throat.

_“…stay.”_

He finished more firmly, shifting his body back toward Barba. Sonny looked shocked to hear his own voice, or what was left of it rather. It was raspier than it had sounded at the precinct, likely from misuse. If it were anybody else, he’d think it was a poor attempt at a bedroom voice.

Barba could see the pleading look Carisi gave him, the vulnerability in his eyes, and he had to swallow to quell the emotion he felt rising. He’d backed them both into an emotional corner he felt ill prepared to address. His next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

**“I see you’ve regained the power of speech.”** Barba nearly winced at his sarcastic delivery but for whatever reason his statement seemed to have drawn a genuine laugh out of Carisi. And just like that the tone of the evening changed yet again.

_“Well jeez counsellor, I guess you’ll have to forgive me for being such terrible company.”_ Carisi rasped, his eyes twinkling with mirth, his shoulders trembling with laughter.

**“Are you kidding? This the most pleasant you’ve ever been. Don’t ruin a good thing on my account!”** Barba volleyed back, pleased with the change in tenor.

Now the bench was moving with Carisi’s laughter. He could feel the vibrations against his back, feel the motions of Carisi’s body against the side of his leg where they were touching. Carisi’s laughter continued, as if it had taken on a life of its own, which in turn made Barba laugh. This continued for a few minutes, with Carisi’s laughter escalating until he took deep gasping breaths and was wiping tears from his eyes.

As the laughter died down, Carisi coughed a bit and wiped some sweat from his brow. He was still wearing the sweater he’d had on earlier and athleticwear or not, it had to be uncomfortable.

**“Lose the sweater Carisi, I’m getting heatstroke just looking at you.”**

_“First I was making you seasick, now I’m giving you heatstroke? If you’re not careful I might start thinking you are an empath there Barba”_ Carisi teased.

**“You’re inching towards slander detective.”**

_“I’m just using my handy dandy detective skills to connect the dots here counsellor.”_

**“Handy dandy? Handy… _dandy_?”** Bara scoffed.

_“I think you are smart enough to infer the meaning Barba.”_

**“I’m smart enough to identify a deflection technique when I see one. What are you hiding under that sweater? Weaponry? A disconcerting mole? You have to be sweltering in this heat.”**

_“… weaponry?”_ Carisi asked with a smirk, attempting further deflection. Barba wasn’t fooled.

**“Spill it Carisi.”**

_“Alright alright fine. You gotta promise not to laugh though.”_

**“I cannot make that promise to you.”**

_“Fine, but you gotta keep this between us then.”_

**“I cannot make that promise either.”**

_“Ughh, whatever just try not to spread this around the precinct ok? I got enough harassment from Rollins and Fin today, I don’t need a repeat tomorrow”_ Carisi said as he removed the sweater.

“ _We were just having a laugh…”_ Carisi said shrugging bashfully, voice trailing off with lack of further explanation for what Barba saw.

It took every ounce of strength Barba had not to burst out laughing.

A littering of different stamps donned Carisi’s forearms- the kind one receives when gaining entry into a bar or club. Some looked blurry, as if removal attempts had been unsuccessful in clearing the skin but effective enough to obscure the name of the establishment. Barba was so curious he couldn’t help himself- he tugged Carisi’s forearm closer to him and flipped it over to make it easier to inspect. Carisi relaxed into the touch, but his blush gave away his clear embarrassment.

**“I see someone had quite the eventful evening after I departed”** Barba quipped with one eyebrow raised, pulling his arm even closer to get a look at the markings on his inner biceps.

Barba thought he could feel Carisi shaking and he looked up toward Carisi quickly. The detective was biting his lip to keep from laughing again, each repressed laugh shaking his body slightly. The blush had lessened significantly, and he straightened his arm out further, rotating it so Barba could get a good look. Barba could see evidence of Carisi’s perspiration on the fabric at his underarms and dotting his chest. The detective must have been uncomfortably warm in that sweater. Although Barba was beginning to understand why he kept it on….

_“We got a bit carried away with the temporary tattoos…”_ Carisi explained.

**“You did this voluntarily?”**

_“… it just kinda happened is all.”_

**“How does this ‘just happen’ Carisi? You just _happened_ to be adorned with cartoon images of…. food items….”** Barba sputtered out, getting flustered himself.

The “food items” consisted of an eggplant, peach, cherries, banana, baguette and….

**“… and a magnifying glass. You’ll have to enlighten me detective, is that meant to be a nod towards your occupation or to acknowledge your curious spirit?”** Barba teased, garnering yet another round of blushing from the detective and some more laughter.

He was ever more curious to see what was on the other bicep. It was as if Carisi had read his mind because he turned his body towards Barba and leaned into his space so he could get a good look at his other bicep. That or he’d simply admitted defeat. It too had some temporary (presumably) tattoos.

**“Or maybe this donut was meant to represent your profession?”**

_“Well…”_

**“Was the hot dog a nod towards your love of street food?”**

_“Umm…”_

**“Or perhaps that’s what the taco was meant to symbolize?”**

_“Ok now you’re just…”_

**“Do you take honey in your tea or is the pot a reference to a bear named Winnie?”**

_“I think we both know that…”_

**“I am most curious to know why the carrot seems to have been crossed off with a sharpie?”**

“ _Oh my god…”_

**“It seems like that is trying to send a specific message in particular no?”**

Carisi groaned, bringing both his extremities back towards his body so he could lean forward and hide his face in his hands. He started laughing again, this time a nervous sort of giggle. He was still close enough to Barba that their thighs were touching slightly. Seeing the detective at a loss for words was highly entertaining. Barba SO enjoyed having the last word in a conversation. 

He watched the detective shake his head to himself, begin to open his mouth to retort back, then just dissolve into further giggles. Barba took a moment to take in the image of the detective. In addition to the sweat marks around his underarms and chest, he could see a damp patch across his shoulders and on the small of his lower back. As embarrassed as he might be, Barba figures encouraging him to take off the sweatshirt was a kindness. When he looked up towards Carisi’s face he noticed the detective had been watching him, and he had the beginnings of a smirk. It was time to put him in his place.

**“Who knew you were so footloose and fancy free? Was that one of the prerequisites for Fordham law? Students who will easily succumb to peer pressure? Enjoys temporary tattoos and stickers? I feel a booyah coming on…”** Barba’s teasing was cut off by a sudden elbow to his ribs by Carisi.

_“Hey hey hey, who said anything about peer pressure? Maybe it was all my idea?”_

**“And I quote, directly from you, ‘it just sort of happened’. Those were in fact your words?”**

_“Well yes…”_

**“And would you not agree that this particular word choice indicates both the lack of a plan?”**

_“I suppose…”_

**“And would you not also agree that the smudged stamps and skin reddening indicate there were attempts to remove said marks, which further indicates that their presence on the skin was unwanted?”**

_“I…”_

**“In addition to your refusal to remove a sweatshirt in** **30** **°C heat? Would that not indicate that you did not want others to see the tattoos, further proving it was not a plan of your own doing?”**

_“Ok ok I think I’m going to have to plead the fifth here counsellor”_ Carisi acquiesced, throwing up both hands in cheerful defeat.

**“I feel that is prudent.”**

_“Ass.”_

**“I think you mean peach.”**

Barba’s last statement had Carisi laughing so hard he snorted and then started laughing even harder. Once they’d both calmed down, they fell into comfortable silence. Or near silence, with Carisi intermittently giggling to himself every time he glanced in Barba’s direction to see the smug look on his face.

After a time, the firmness of the bench became uncomfortable. It provided no lumbar support and regrettably a lifetime of desk work had allowed Barba to fall prey to back issues. He tried to readjust but it did not do much to alleviate the ache, and the jostling caused the inseam of his jeans to dig in deeper. They really were the kind of pair he should only wear when standing. It was probably time to replace them.

_“Hey Barba”_ Carisi said softly, turning to look at him again. Carisi’s voice had started fading again during their banter, indicating his throat irritation had returned.

**“Yes?”**

_“Thank you for inviting me out tonight. You were right, I really did need it. Like a lot.”_

Barba nodded and looked down at his phone- embarrassed, yet chuffed he’d made Carisi smile on a day full of frowns. Then to his horror he felt a massive yawn overtake him. The kind where your mouth opens like a lion roaring and the audible sound isn’t much different. He could hear Carisi snigger, followed by his own yawn.

_“Long day counsellor amirite?_ ” Carisi said, yawning again, his body appearing drained of all its liveliness.

**“That it was.”**

Carisi groaned as he stood up from the bench and stretched for a minute, further showcasing his height, his sweat and those ridiculous “tattoos”. 

_“It goes against everything I stand for, but I think I’ll treat myself to a cab ride home tonight. I don’t think I could keep upright on the subway if I tried.”_ He said before turning around and extending a hand to help Barba up.

Barba ought to be offended by the gesture (he wasn’t that old!?!) but his lower back was grateful for the assistance, and he was pleased Carisi had set the stage for a natural exit to the evening.

**“Goes against everything that you stand for? Might you be exercising some hyperbole there?”** Barba said, brushing off the back of his jeans where his thighs touched the bench. He was feeling a bit sweaty himself and hoped that it wasn’t visible through the light grey fabric.

_“A true New Yorker takes the subway Barba.”_

**“You’re from Staten Island Carisi.”**

_“Exactly, and if I can take transit in from there, I can certainly take it to Inwood.”_

**“Except for tonight.”**

_“A one- time exception.”_

**“Likely story.”**

_“How are you getting home?”_ Carisi asked while looking around for a cab.

**“A taxi, there was never any question about it.”**

“ _Too good for the subway?”_

**“Too hot to go without control of the air conditioning.”**

“ _You make an excellent point.”_

**“I often do.”**

Carisi chuckled at that while he put his sweater back on. He waved down a taxi and opened the door, motioning for Barba to get in.

“ _You take the first one counsellor and I’ll grab the next.”_

**“Are you sure?”** Barba asked to be polite, he could already feel the cool air blasting from the taxi’s open door, and it felt divine.

_“Positive, I’m going to the other side of the road to catch one in the right direction. Less U-turns.”_

**“I won’t argue with you. Good night detective.”**

_“Goodnight Barba, get home safe.”_

And with that Barba closed the taxi door, gave his home address to the driver, and leaned back into the seat. The day had been a whirlwind of activity and emotions and it would take the entirety of his energy not to fall asleep on the drive home. He was ready to fall into bed, he could process the day tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note about H&M and temporary tattoos mentioned: The opinion of Barba does not match the writer! I have an appreciation for both of those items :) I just felt the characters would feel differently. 
> 
> I hope you all are doing well and finding ways to cope in this bizarre world we are living in ❤️. It's strange to think I started writing this fic as a distraction technique during pride month and all of a sudden it's mid-February. How did that happen? 
> 
> Working on the front lines during a pandemic has been surreal and it's been nice to escape into this fictional world for some respite from the unfathomable losses. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be ready tbh, but there are 1-2 more chapter(s) in this part of the series and then there will be a bit of time jump into the next part. 
> 
> This was/is my first fic and I had no idea what to expect. What a friendly fandom this is! I've really appreciated all the kudos, comments and kind words. They are so motivating in a time where so little is. 
> 
> Be safe, stay well and take care of one another!


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